


Let Me Show You

by lucyoppa



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Breathplay, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Genital Piercing, Light Bondage, M/M, Piercings, Praise Kink, Punishment, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Sexual Tension, Smut, Spanking, TopSoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 11:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11713221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucyoppa/pseuds/lucyoppa
Summary: Jongin wants Kyungsoo to show him his piercings. And maybe, after that, he wants a whole lot more.





	1. final

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative name: "Pierce Me With Your Cock Daddy" courtesy of Chrissy. A crosspost from [AFF](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1175057/let-me-show-you-pwp-exo-jongin-kyungsoo-kaisoo-kadi).
> 
> So... yeah. This is THE filthy fic that got me noticed. And I doubt I'm ever going to write anything smuttier than this, so... enjoy it, I guess. If you wanna chat, come follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/lucy_oppa), or if you're shy, come drop a message in my [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/lucyoppa).

 

 

“Oh god,” Jongin stops walking and begins to hyperventilate when he spots the little shop, discreetly located in a back alley Chanyeol’s just turned them both into. The small sign, written in artistically curled hangul, is far too edgy and intimidating for Jongin’s liking. “No. No, I can’t do this.”

Chanyeol stops and turns when he realises Jongin is no longer beside him, looking back with a cocked eyebrow.

“C’mon man,” Chanyeol reaches out an arm to grab him by the bicep and tug him forward. “It’s not gonna be that bad.”

“How do you even _know_ that?” Jongin asks, voice slightly hysterical as he digs his heels into the concrete and _resists_. “You’ve never done this before.”

“Yeah, but I was with Baek when he got his done,” Chanyeol tugs harder, looping both hands around Jongin’s arm now. Jongin, surprisingly, still doesn’t budge, the fear somehow bringing out an extra reserve of strength no one even knew he had. “And that was _way_ worse than what you’re gonna get done. C’ _mon_!’

“No,” Jongin insists, starting to panic as he tries to forcibly extricate himself from Chanyeol’s hold. “Nope, I’m not doing this. I’m going home.”

“Yeah, like Baekhyun’s gonna let you live _that_ down,” Chanyeol sneers, snagging Jongin by the collar of his shirt and tugging him back once he’s managed to get free. “You’re going to be our friend-group’s laughing stock for the rest of the _year_ if you turn away now.”

Jongin freezes at that, and turns to shoot Chanyeol a suspicious look.

“Baekhyun doesn’t need to know about this,” he warns.

“He does,” Chanyeol grins, pulling at Jongin so suddenly he totters a few steps backwards, and Chanyeol nudges him in the direction they were previously walking, keeping him moving with two palms pressed flat against his back. “Of course I’m gonna tell him, he’s my best friend.”

“Chanyeol…” Jongin’s voice is dark as he leans against the palms on his back for maximum resistance. His shoes scrape painfully across the concrete when he stops walking, and Chanyeol nearly shoves him over, nearly sends him sprawling onto the cement.

“In fact I _already_ told him,” the other says brightly.

“Chanyeol!” Jongin whines, turning back with a pout to sulk at his friend. “Why would you do that? He’s _never_ gonna let this go!”

“Which is exactly why I told him.”

“I can’t believe you,” Jongin huffs.

“Yes you can,” Chanyeol counters, looping his arm around Jongin’s tensed-up shoulders and forcing him another painful step forward and towards the shop. “Besides, he won’t laugh at you if you actually get it done. So what are you waiting for, let’s go!”

Jongin continues to look sceptical, rooting himself to the spot once more. But somehow he looks less convinced, less sure, as his eyes flit between Chanyeol and the shop just down the road.

“Hey listen man, we’re making a scene,” Chanyeol tells him as he looks off down the street. “That guy in the shop is giving us a weird look.”

Jongin glances over, and sure enough, even from this distance he can see a confused face peering out of the one small window on the shopfront towards them. He immediately straightens and relaxes his shoulders, shooting the man inside a smile and a small wave to show they’re okay. He doesn’t want people to think he’s weird, or anything.

“Okay,” he says, unlocking his knees, and taking one tentative step in the direction Chanyeol had been pushing him, one foot in front of the other. “Okay.”

“Alright man,” Chanyeol smiles again – it’s a little too wide, looks a little too much like he’s enjoying himself, and Jongin thinks he _really_ ought to find new friends. “Let’s do this.”

The shop is empty when they walk in, save for the man behind the counter, who’s bent over a large sheet of blank paper, brandishing a pen and doodling some kind of swirling design in black ink. Jongin thinks it’s pretty impressive, but the man looks like he’s only half paying attention, pen-cap caught between his lips, and the hand spreading rapid strokes across the paper not even stopping when he looks up at the little bell sounding off the arrival of a new customer.

“Hey,” he calls, spitting out the pen-cap and straightening up. Jongin wrinkles his nose at the faint chemical smell of alcohol lingering around the shop. “One of you guys looking to get a tattoo?”

He’s really tall when he stands up to his full height. Handsome too, with his dyed blonde hair, tall nose, and the curling geometric design tumbling down over his left upper arm and bicep. His voice is deep – only slightly higher than Chanyeol’s – and he’s not exactly Jongin’s type, but it wouldn’t take him much convincing, if he were honest.

“Nah,” Chanyeol grins easily. He’s always been much better at the socialising thing, at playing it cool around strangers than Jongin has. Chanyeol jerks his thumb back at Jongin, who hovers shyly behind his shoulder. “This guy wants an ear piercing though.”

Jongin grimaces.

Chanyeol’s wrong.

He doesn’t exactly _want_ an ear piercing. No. He’s just got a point to prove. And yeah, _yeah_ , Jongin realises how incredibly stupid that is, but he’s nothing if not stubborn, and he’s going to _make_ his friends stop teasing him over stupid shit if it’s the last thing he does.

It all started when Baekhyun waltzed onto campus with a lip-ring last week.

( _Goddamn Baekhyun with his goddamn lip-ring_ , Jongin thinks.)

In between the flurry of words and the buzz of excitement and wonder, Jongin had managed to work _“Baekhyun, you are the_ last _person in our friend-group anyone would expect to get a piercing_ ” in edgeways.

Which had led to much shouting and laughter and three different people saying: _“No, Jongin,_ you’re _the last person in our friend-group anyone would expect to get a piercing”._

And that had just gone the way conversations about Jongin _usually_ tend to go. The “Jongin’s just not bad-ass enough” kind of way. The “Jongin is a wimp who’s afraid of pain” kind of way. The “Jongin still walks slightly faster and holds his phone tighter when he sees people with a lot of tattoos and piercings walking down the street towards him” kind of way (and ‘ _how’s that for profiling and unnecessary stereotypes, Kim Jongin’_ Jongdae had wanted to know).

(In his defence, Jongin sometimes gets scared when Chanyeol claps his hands too loud. So tattooed and pierced individuals shouldn’t take it personally.)

Now Jongin resents that. He resents how it had turned into a game, another round of ‘ _let’ all tease Jongin and hope he doesn’t cry’_. Because, admittedly, Jongin is kind of a cry baby. And sometimes his friends take things a little too far.

But he doesn’t get what makes him so different from all the other people who get piercings. Of course, there’s pain involved, and Jongin’s not the biggest fan, but both of his sisters have pierced ears, and neither are they.

So he resents the implication. And maybe it’s stupid, but he kind of wants to prove them wrong.

Nobody expected him to actually be here, in a tattoo and piercing parlour, a week later (albeit with a friend to hold his hand, but that’s beside the point).

“Really?” Asks Tall, Blonde and Tattooed now, leaning one hip against the counter lazily, and cocking a bored eyebrow. “He doesn’t look like he does.”

Jongin realises he probably looks terrified at the same moment that Chanyeol turns around and laughs right in his face. So he straightens up, rearranging his facial features to shoot a frown at Chanyeol.

“No,” he says, looking at the man behind the counter. “I mean, yeah. Yeah, I do want one.”

“That’s more like it,” the man licks over his lips distractedly. “Let me just call Kyungsoo. He’s the piercer around here.”

He disappears, brushing past a beaded string-curtain separating the front of the shop from the back rooms, while Chanyeol busies himself with studying the various tattoo designs displayed up on every inch of the wall-space available in such a tiny shop.

And Jongin? Jongin just continues to try and (unsuccessfully) convince himself that he isn’t terrified of having a piece of fucking metal stuck through his flesh.

A moment later, the same man from before brushes past the curtain and back into the shop.

“Kyungsoo’s just getting some stuff ready, he’ll be out in a moment,” he tells Jongin, bending down to retrieve something stowed under the counter. “In the meantime, you’ll need to sign our disclaimer form. And you look plenty old enough, but I’ll need to see some ID. It’s policy.”

Jongin nods, rummaging around in his pocket for his identity card, and walking forward to where the disclaimer form has been laid out for him. The other man checks the card while he scans over the form and signs – it all looks pretty standard, simple things that protect them in the case of the piercing becoming infected and him wanting to sue, making sure he understands that aftercare will be his own responsibility, that he is aware of piercings being permanent and the possible long-term scarring, et cetera, et cetera.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches someone move past the curtain, somewhere in one of the back rooms. He can’t make out much, but he presumes this other person must be his piercer, this mysterious _Kyungsoo_.

_Oh god,_ thinks Jongin. _I hope he’s not scary._

Jongin’s mind helpfully conjures up pictures of metal studs sticking out of every visible body part, angry tattoos running up bulging arms, judgemental glares coming out of someone six foot four and tired of people crying over _just a little pain._

“Sehun where did you put the surgical gloves?” calls a voice from the back room. It’s deep, calm, low and quiet, and Jongin shivers despite himself.

_That is the voice of a man that holds the fate of my life in his hands_ , Jongin’s mind over-dramatizes.

“Fourth drawer on your left,” The tattooed man – Sehun, he now presumes – calls back, not looking up from where he’s gone back to doodling, this time his mouth free of the obstruction of the pen-cap.

“These are some nice designs,” Chanyeol says, from where he is examining the twisting body of a snake about to strike, inked up on the wall. “Do you do these yourself?”

Sehun looks up.

“The ones on that wall, yeah,” he explains, gesturing to the more artistic and creative section of the designs. “The other ones are just stock images, really. Stuff you could get done at any tattoo parlour. It’s boring but it’s good for income – you’d be surprised how many people don’t want something original.”

Chanyeol nods and turns back to the wall.

“You’re really good,” he says in wonder.

“Thanks,” says Sehun, not looking up this time.

“Hey,” says the same voice from before, much closer this time. Jongin turns to find a new figure brushing into the room. “I’m Kyungsoo. Heard there was someone wanting to be stuck full of needles around here.”

He’s short, with amusement flickering around the edges of a straight-face. Biceps bulge just slightly out from under the sleeves of a tight white T-shirt, and his hair is military-short, only a little longer at the top and all tousled. He’s got wide eyes, full lips, and thick, formidable eyebrows.

And the first thought Jongin has is: _holy_ fuck _this man is hot._

Sehun eyebrows draw down into the tiniest of frowns.

“Stop saying that to customers,” he chides, slapping Kyungsoo weakly with the back of his hand. “Sooner or later you’re gonna chase someone away.”

The second thought Jongin has is: _he doesn’t have a single piercing. Anywhere._

“Shut up, brat,” Kyungsoo rebuffs somewhat cheerily, brushing Sehun’s hand off and sliding the disclaimer form out from under Jongin’s palm. Jongin starts, and watches thick fingers whisk the paper away to check it over. “Did you check his ID yet?”

“Yeah, he’s old enough,” Jongin hears Sehun say, as he eyes up the way Kyungsoo’s jeans fit so nicely, accentuating his thick thighs, the swell of his ass –

Chanyeol, who has come to stand by his shoulder now, nudges him lightly in the side, and mouths “ _you’re being really obvious_ ” into his ear.

Jongin flushes bright red, making sure to step backwards and onto Chanyeol’s toes. The taller winces and groans in pain.

_Say something witty_ , Jongin’s brain instructs.

“ _You’re_ the piercer?” Jongin blurts out really loudly instead. Sehun glances up at the outburst, and Chanyeol nudges him again. This time it’s his _‘you’re being weird, Jongin’_ nudge.

Kyungsoo’s looking at him too now. And Jongin can’t really breathe.

Because he doesn’t know if Kyungsoo licking his lips is just a habit, or a reaction to _him_ , with the way his eyes flicker from his face to skim down his torso, rake down his legs and all the way back up again.

“Yeah,” he says, and his voice is somehow different when he speaks to Jongin. Lower. Gruffer. Jongin doesn’t know what that means. “I am. Is that surprising?”

And Jongin knows he’s bright red by now, but he blunders on, regardless.

“It’s just, you don’t have any piercings.”

Kyungsoo blinks at him. Then he smirks, looking back down at the disclaimer form in his hands as if he hasn’t already checked it. Sehun might be smirking too – it’s hard to tell now that he has the pen-cap back between his teeth.

“I have a couple,” Kyungsoo says, vaguely.

It’s Jongin’s turn to blink.

“Where?” he asks.

Sehun’s definitely smirking now.

Chanyeol nudges him again. That’s his _‘you’re being_ really _weird now, Jongin, please stop’_ nudge.

Kyungsoo just shoots him this little look from under his lashes that Jongin doesn’t quite understand, before he opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue.

The little silver stud sitting on the middle of it catches the light, glistening with moisture under the artificial lighting inside the shop.

“Oh,” says Jongin. Intelligently.

“That’s one of them,” Kyungsoo says, once he’s closed his mouth. He still looks amused, and Jongin doesn’t get it. “So what exactly am I piercing today” – he looks down at the disclaimer form in his hands and quickly back up again, a little sharp with the eye-contact – “Jongin?”

Jongin’s fingertips twitch into his palms, forming loose fists at the sound of his name rolling, so smooth and warm, off of that tongue.

“Just my ear,” he says, reaching up to point at his left upper-helix. “Like, here maybe?”

Kyungsoo nods.

“That’s cartilage, so I guess we’ll be using a needle. Not the gun.”

Jongin tries not to freeze up at the word ‘needle’.

But honestly, this mini staring match he’s got going on with Kyungsoo is _more_ than a little distracting. Something warm knots in his stomach.

“Hey, Jongin, listen man,” Chanyeol glances between him and Kyungsoo, and when Jongin finally turns, he’s smirking down at him. “I gotta go. Baek just texted me. Something came up.”

He takes a moment to comprehend as Chanyeol backs out of the store.

“No! Hey wait!” He’s suddenly in action, grabbing after Chanyeol as he hangs in the doorframe grinning back at him. “You _promised_. Who’s gonna hold my hand if you leave?”

“You’re a big boy, Jonginnie,” Chanyeol wiggles his eyebrows at him right before he shuts the door with a soft _tinkle_. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Jongin visibly slumps as he watches Chanyeol head off across the road through the window. _Stupid, big, oaf, with his stupid, big, ears and his –_

“Don’t worry Jongin,” Kyungsoo’s pleasant voice floats through the air behind him, and Jongin turns back around to see him filing the disclaimer form on one of the shelves behind the counter, reaching up so that the back of his shirt hikes up to reveal a pale sliver of skin. It’s downright _delicious_. “ _I’ll_ hold your hand.”

Sehun’s trying not laugh into his drawing.

A million butterflies suddenly burst into flight in his stomach at the words, and he doesn’t think it’s possible for him to flush any darker – but if it is, that’s exactly what he does.

“Uhh,” he says (intelligently), right as Kyungsoo turns around and melts his brain with another devilish smirk. He immediately drops his own eyes to the floor. “So how much is this gonna be?”

“Seven thousand won,” Kyungsoo says, reaching under the counter to pull out a small tray of earrings. Jongin starts rifling in his pocket for his wallet, but Kyungsoo holds up a hand. “You can pay afterwards. First, come and pick which earring you want.”

Jongin shuffles forward shyly, peering down at the small display case. Honestly, he’d forgotten there was even a fun part to this, and now he has no idea what to choose.

“Your choice is a little limited, since it’s a cartilage piercing,” Kyungsoo explains, leaning across the counter and into more of Jongin’s personal space than he thinks is necessary. “I’m guessing it’s your first time, so I’d stick with something plain and simple. A stud maybe. It’s less likely to get caught on stuff than a ring.”

Jongin winces at the thought of a fresh piercing being snagged and pulled on, all reddened angry flesh and _pain_.

“I’ll go with that then,” Jongin decides quickly. “The silver one maybe.”

Kyungsoo hums, and tucks the display case back under the counter.

“Those ones are just for display. We keep the ones we actually use in the back, sterilised,” he explains.

Jongin nods, eyes dipping when Kyungsoo hits him with that unwavering gaze again. It makes him nervous for reasons that have nothing to do with needles, and honestly, that alone should scare him.

“Hey ‘Soo,” Sehun says, straightening up, and taking the pen-cap out of his mouth and (finally) clicking it onto the pen. “I’m gonna go grab some lunch. I don’t have any appointments ‘til four. Phone me if any walk-ins come by, okay?”

“Sure,” Kyungsoo says, as Sehun pulls on a black cardigan and heads out of the door. He turns back to Jongin, face straight, eyes soft and dark. “Looks like it’s just you and me then.”

“Yeah,” Jongin swallows, but his mind is probably making up the innuendo. Kyungsoo doesn’t mean it like _that_.

“Follow me,” he says, turning to part the curtain for Jongin to follow through. The smell of alcohol-based disinfectant grows stronger as he walks.

Kyungsoo leads him to one of the back rooms, and makes him take a seat on what looks like, for lack of a better term, a doctor’s examination table, before disappearing again. The walls are eggshell blue and the room smells sterile, reminding him of a hospital. It should calm Jongin down, but it just reminds him of needles and all of the things that scare him about going to the doctor too.

“Nervous?” Kyungsoo asks, appearing in the doorway as he pulls on a pair of surgical gloves. The _snap_ they make when he lets go has Jongin wincing, and Kyungsoo chuckles. “You don’t need to be. It doesn’t hurt half as much as you think it’s going to.”

Jongin juts out his lower lip.

“I know, I just,” he moves his hands uselessly in the air, trying to get his point across. “Needles.”

“I understand,” Kyungsoo says, sifting through some of the drawers on the other side of the room, picking out a few pieces of equipment that are utterly foreign to Jongin. “It’s a scary concept.”

Kyungsoo comes to lay the equipment out on the surface next to Jongin’s thigh, and stand too close, the rough fabric of his jeans brushing against Jongin’s bare knee. The first thing he picks up is, to Jongin’s relief, not a needle.

It’s just a marker.

“I’m going to mark off where I need to pierce,” he tells Jongin, uncapping the marker and reaching up to cup Jongin’s jaw a little more intimately that is strictly necessary, turning his head gently to the side. “Then you can tell me if I’m getting it right.”

Jongin feels the fingers on his jaw retract, the soft felt-tip of the marker pressing a small dot onto his ear.

“There,” Kyungsoo smiles reassuringly, when Jongin turns back to face him, and lifts a small hand mirror up to his face. “Not so bad so far, right? Are you okay with the piercing in this spot?”

Jongin glances in the mirror and nods, not trusting his voice with the way one of Kyungsoo’s hands comes to momentarily come to rest on the top of his thigh.

He doesn’t want to give himself any credit, but is Kyungsoo coming on to him?

Maybe he’s just a really friendly person though? So, probably not then.

Jongin _shouldn’t_ feel disappointed…

“Now I’m just gonna clean the area.” Kyungsoo talks him through it, tilting Jongin’s head again, this time coming to softly caress the hair behind Jongin’s ear out of the way – rough fingers remarkably gentle as they card through dark strands.

Jongin feels something cold and moist swipe against his skin. The smell of disinfectant rises in his nostrils.

“Now this part might be a little uncomfortable,” Kyungsoo starts, and Jongin’s breathing immediately picks up. “No, ssh, it’s not the piercing yet. I just need to clamp your ear with this first.”

Kyungsoo lays a comforting hand on his shoulder, speaking low in his ear. Jongin doesn’t know how ‘comforting’ that is, since his body has other ideas – that all involve an increased heartrate and his toes curling in on themselves inside his trainers.

But it does distract him when he looks down at the strange device in Kyungsoo hands. It looks like a pair of scissors with blunt, flat ends, and Jongin’s never seen one of these before in his life. Someone could have told him it was some kind of medieval torture device, and he would have believed it.

“This won’t hurt,” Kyungsoo murmurs, having leant close enough by now that Jongin would hear him at a whisper. “You’ll just feel some pressure.”

Kyungsoo raises the clamp to Jongin’s ear, positions it, and presses down. The pressure is sudden and intense, and Jongin wouldn’t be very happy with this in the long run, but as it stands, he can bear it.

“Now…” says Kyungsoo, and Jongin bites his lip, glancing up nervously to see Kyungsoo’s looking right back down, because the finality in his tone means _it’s_ _time_. “I know I said you could hold my hand, but you actually can’t, seeing as they’ll be a bit occupied.”

He hums to himself, as if contemplating something.

“And you probably shouldn’t hold onto my arms, because if you jerk me I might mess up, but if you want, you can hold onto my waist.”

“W-what?”

“My waist,” Kyungsoo repeats, moving closer, coming to stand in between Jongin’s parted knees. Jongin stutters and Kyungsoo’s eyes seem to smoulder. “Hold on to it.”

Jongin’s cheeks burn. He breaks eye contact.

This can’t be standard practice with _all_ of Kyungsoo’s clients, can it?

Maybe he _is_ coming onto him, after all…                                 

His breath simmers across Jongin’s face as he reaches out with the hand not holding onto the clamp to take one of Jongin’s, pulling it up to rest on the dip of his waist. Jongin swallows down a whimper.

His fingers twitch on the soft cotton of Kyungsoo’s T-shirt. He feels hard muscles and body heat on the other side of the flimsy barrier, and suddenly, this cold, sterile room they’re in feels sickly warm, has his head swimming.

“C’mon,” Kyungsoo urges, and Jongin tentatively lifts the other hand to place it on the other side of his waist. “Good boy.”

Kyungsoo’s voice drops low on the last two words, and Jongin feels something stir in his pants. This is too much of an inconvenient time for him to be getting hard – when he’s got Kyungsoo, a man he knows absolutely nothing about, standing between his legs, and smirking at him like he’s just done something wholly worth his time.

Concentrating on not getting hard is enough for him not to notice how odd it is. It’s really fucking _odd_ for Kyungsoo to call him a _‘good boy’._

Their faces are almost on the same level too, since even though Jongin’s sitting and Kyungsoo’s standing, their height difference makes up for it. Kyungsoo’s lips are just a couple of inches away from his own, so close that Jongin feels the edges of his breaths cloud across his face, breathing sexual tension into the room.

He wants to die. He wants to shrink in on himself in shame, and curl up, and just _die_.

“Close your eyes,” Kyungsoo says, and from the tone of his voice, Jongin gathers it’s not a suggestion.

It’s a command.

Jongin complies, an involuntary shudder –  that there is now no _way_ Kyungsoo doesn’t feel – working its way through his body.

When Kyungsoo tells him what to do, it just… it _does_ things to him.

“Now hold still,” Kyungsoo’s words fan out across his face, even closer this time, and Jongin doesn’t know what he’s more afraid of: the needle, or Kyungsoo finding out he’s half hard and twitching in his shorts, hot and worked up and _ready_. “This is going to hurt.”

He feels the tip of the needle first. Then a cold, hard pressure squeezing into his ear. He screws his eyes more tightly shut, digs his fingers into Kyungsoo’s shirt in anticipation.

Then the pain hits him.

He whimpers involuntarily as it pulses, first dull, then sharp, and he thinks he hears Kyungsoo whisper: “Ssh baby. It’s okay, it’s nearly over.”

But honestly, at this point, Jongin thinks everything might be a weird, hallucinogenic fever dream. No way would a man he literally just met fifteen minutes ago say such a thing to him.

His pulse thuds loudly in his head, and he feels like all the heat in his body rushes to that one spot in his ear. He feels too warm, too faint, and there’s another hard pressure as Kyungsoo presses something else into his ear, making the pain flare up again.

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“It’s over,” says Kyungsoo softly, and the clamp lifts off of Jongin’s ear. His head thunders with every small movement in the room – his heartbeat, Kyungsoo’s breathing, and the way his T-shirt shifts against his skin when he pulls back – and when he dares to open his eyes, he realises the white-knuckled grip he has on the other man’s waist might be somewhat painful.

“Sorry,” he says, releasing his grip and pulling his hands back into his lap, jamming them into the space between his thighs and looking up timidly.

“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo chuckles, putting the needle down with his other equipment next to Jongin. He’s still standing close enough for Jongin’s stomach to do somersaults, doubly so when he raises a hand to brush the back of his knuckles against Jongin’s cheek. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

Jongin raises tearful eyes to pout up at him.

“It hurt,” he whines, forgetting for a moment, just how intimate this whole position is. Something seems to twist and darken in Kyungsoo’s face, as Jongin raises a careful hand to reach for his new piercing. Kyungsoo grabs it, gripping white marks into the skin of Jongin’s wrist.

“Don’t touch.” He stares Jongin down, and the other wants to melt onto the plastic-covering of the exam table at the intensity of it all. “The piercing needs to heal and you shouldn’t touch it.”

“Okay,” Jongin chokes out, his own voice sounding horribly breathless in the otherwise silent room. The grip on his wrist loosens, bringing Jongin’s hand back down to his lap, releasing him.

Jongin’s lip twitches.

Kyungsoo’s mouth quirks.

“Just sit here for a moment while I clear everything up, okay?” He instructs, and Jongin’s having a really hard timing believing that the heated undercurrent in his voice is strictly professional. “Your body needs a moment to recover. You might faint if you stand up too soon.”

Jongin watches as Kyungsoo picks up all of his equipment, and clears off to the other side of the room to dispose of the dirty needle and sterilise his clamp. Jongin kind of mourns the loss.

“If you sleep on your side, try not to sleep on the piercing, Jongin,” Kyungsoo tells him, looking up from where he’s peeling off his gloves and tossing them in the trash. “It could irritate the wound, and you don’t want that.”

Kyungsoo continues to flit around the room as he cleans up, pausing only to give Jongin a few words of advice here and there, or to press a bottle of saline solution into his palm, telling him to clean the wound morning and night, no exceptions.

He’s still warm and a little more than friendly, but he’s not all up in Jongin’s personal space any more. It makes Jongin a little disappointed to think that in ten minutes he could be on his way out of the door, never to see Kyungsoo again.

He thought maybe, for a second there, something was going to happen. _Maybe_.

He squirms in his seat. Did he _want_ something to happen…?

Jongin is… inexperienced. To say the least. He’s not a virgin, but he doesn’t exactly have a track-record of hook-ups to fall back on. In fact, he’s _never_ slept with someone he’s known for less than a month, and never with someone he wasn’t in a committed relationship with.

And never thought he’d _wanted_ to, until now.

But Kyungsoo’s over on the other side of the room now, wiping down the counters and humming something sweet under his breath. And Jongin doesn’t know how to verbalise what he wants, doesn’t know how to ask for certain things.

So he bites his lip. Accepts that it won’t happen. And asks something else instead.

“Kyungsoo,” he starts, swinging his feet under the exam table, the pain in his ear nothing more than a dull but heavy throbbing by now. “You said you have a couple of piercings, right?”

Kyungsoo shoots him a look. It’s nothing but a raised eyebrow, really, but why does Jongin feel like there’s humour tracing the corners of his mouth, that the mirth he imagines in those eyes is real?

“Yeah?”

Jongin digs his fingers into the plastic covering of the exam table experimentally.

“Where’s the other one?”

Kyungsoo shares an amused look with the surface of the counter he’s cleaning. Jongin doesn’t get the joke.

“How badly do you want to know?”

Jongin blinks.

“What do you mean?” He pouts.

Kyungsoo levels a look at him now. He’s smiling pleasantly, but his eyes are slanted, predatory.

And Jongin still just isn’t catching on.

“Do you want me to _show_ you?”

Jongin blinks again.

“Uhh, yeah. Sure.”

Kyungsoo practically _stalks_ forward. Jongin doesn’t know why it has him feeling so small, but his thighs curve inward towards each other at the way Kyungsoo fixes him in place with his eyes, the material of his shorts scrunching up, uncomfortable.

It’s when Kyungsoo stops about a foot in front of him, and his hands raise to tease the button of his jeans loose, that Jongin finally freaks out.

“Whoa, whoa, wait!” His hands fly up to flap at Kyungsoo and his eyes bug out. Kyungsoo stops – his fly left half undone and the black fabric of his boxers just showing through. He’s not even hiding the amusement in his smirk anymore. “ _What_ are you doing!?”

When Jongin thought something might happen, when Jongin thought he might _want_ something to happen, he didn’t picture it like _this_. So sudden and without warning. So abrupt, so –

“I thought you wanted to see my piercing?” Kyungsoo pouts, blinking and innocent. Jongin doesn’t believe it for a second.

Then his mind clicks.

Kyungsoo’s piercing.

Kyungsoo taking off his pants.

Sehun and Kyungsoo collectively smirking at him earlier.

_Oh._

“ _You have a piercing on your dick!?”_ Jongin squeaks, the sound reverberating too loudly in the quiet of the room. One of his hands flies up so he can stuff two of his knuckles into his mouth. _No more awkward outbursts, Kim Jongin._

Kyungsoo looks like he’s trying really, _really_ hard not to laugh at him.

“Yep.” Kyungsoo’s hands are still toying with the zipper on his fly, as if someone had just hit pause on the whole situation, and he’s about to pick up right where he left off in another moment. “I have two. One on my tongue, and one on… my dick.”

His eyes flicker up to meet Jongin’s on the last two words playfully.

Jongin gives himself a moment.

This is the first time he’s ever really considered that people could get piercings down… down _there_.

Of course, he kind of knew it was _theoretically_ possible, but he hadn’t actually thought about real people ever actually _doing_ it.

“Oh,” is his highly intelligent conclusion, as he shoves that thought away in favour of the millions of questions suddenly popping up in his mind.

Most pertinent is: _was Kyungsoo really about to show me his dick?_

There’s no _way_ he isn’t coming onto him now.

“So…” Kyungsoo starts, and the amusement has faded enough for him to see that predation still lingering in his eyes. He looks like a cat playing with a mouse before the kill. Jongin feels a lot like that mouse. “You still wanna see, or…?”

Jongin swallows.

He’s flustered. All of this touching and skinship has already been enough to work him up, already been much further than he’s gone with anyone he’s known for so little time. Knowing Jongin, he should have long since made a break for the door. Usually, being checked out as blatantly as Kyungsoo had when he’d walked into the shop would already be enough for him to turn tail and run.

But Kyungsoo is just... he’s just so _hot_ , with his deep voice, and his appealing eyes, and _totally_ kissable lips, and _literally offering to drop his pants right now in front of him, holy hell._

And Jongin _wants_.

Besides. If Jongin’s friends think his new _piercing_ is wild, then…

“Okay,” he breathes, and he knows he’s supposed to sound brave and resolved, but to his own ears he just sounds terrified and out of breath, more like he’s convincing _himself_ than anything else. “Okay.”

“Okay,” repeats Kyungsoo, and Jongin would squawk and complain at the obvious teasing, but Kyungsoo doesn’t give him another moment before he pulls his fly the rest of the way down, hooks fingers under the elastic banding at the top of his boxers, and pulls his jeans and underwear down to about mid-thigh in one efficient movement.

Jongin takes one more breath before he drops his eyes.

And stares.

The first thing he notices, before a queasy kind of buzz overtakes his body, equal parts mortification and arousal, is _wow, Kyungsoo has really_ does _have nice thighs._

And he’d kinda like to sit on his lap.

But then his eyes shift a millimetre to the right, like a photographer has clicked the focus ring in his irises into place, and he sees it.

Holy fuck.

Kyungsoo is _huge_.

“So, what do you think?” Kyungsoo asks, and Jongin dares not look up.

“I…” _Fuck. The piercing Jongin. The_ piercing _. Not his dick, you filthy-minded piece of_ – “It’s… it’s nice.”

There, on the head of Kyungsoo’s cock, sits an innocuous metal stud. The piercing disappears under the ridge around the head, appearing again in the form of another tiny metal bauble, sitting about half a centimetre down the shaft, glinting in the light from the fluorescent ceiling fixtures.

It’s tiny, but nobody in their right minds would miss it. It doesn’t hurt that Kyungsoo’s already half-hard and brushing against his thigh, but that’s none of Jongin’s business.

“D-didn’t it hurt?” Jongin finds it in himself to manage, the silence in the room making the atmosphere tenser than he thinks it needs to be. “Like, _a lot_?”

Kyungsoo hums as he considers the question. Like this is a normal conversation. Like he hasn’t got his pants down and a stranger staring at his dick with more interest than is probably healthy.

“I won’t lie, it was pretty painful,” Jongin can hear the smirk in his voice, but he still won’t look up. “But the pain was nowhere near as bad as the abstinence.”

“The a-abstinence?”

“Yeah, no sex for three weeks. To let the piercing heal. Now _that_ was painful.”

Jongin blushes anew at the overtly sexual comment. Gets all flustered again – like he’s forgotten exactly how sexual the situation he finds himself in right now actually _is_.

“I-I see,” he stammers.

The silence between them stretches, and Jongin takes it upon himself to make an executive decision in this scenario.

“Can I…” his voice dies out dramatically, shoulders hunching forward and hands balling at his sides. The plastic covering on which he sits feels sticky. “Can I touch?”

He chances a glance at Kyungsoo.

The other’s smile has dropped completely now. His throat bobs.

“Please do.”

Jongin slides off of the exam table and drops to his knees in front of Kyungsoo, equal parts over-eager and hesitant. Out of his peripheral vision, he sees Kyungsoo’s fingertips twitch, just once.

He starts with just one digit, presses the pad of his index finger against the metal stud sitting on the tip, watching as the shaft of the piercing shifts to push through and poke out of the other side just slightly. Above him, Kyungsoo hisses. In front of his face, just centimetres away, his cock twitches.

Jongin bites his lip.

He’s about one hundred and fifty percent sure Kyungsoo sees right through him. Nobody in their right mind just asks another man if they can touch their dick without ulterior motives.

_It’s for science_ , his brain supplies, unhelpfully.

Next, he takes the stud in between his thumb and forefinger, and tugs lightly. Kyungsoo’s hands fist into the edges of his T-shirt, his cock hardening enough to stand on its own without flopping to the side.

“Do all of your customers get to see this?” Jongin asks, the shyness in his voice counteracted by how he leans closer so that the breath from his words has Kyungsoo hardening the rest of the way.

His own shorts are feeling pretty tight by now too, if he’s honest.

“Not at all,” Kyungsoo’s trying to sound nonchalant but it’s obvious he’s biting the words out from behind clenched teeth. “But I have a weakness for cute little things like you.”

The part of Jongin still innocent enough to be in denial about the fact that he literally has his face ten centimetres away from a relative stranger’s erect cock flusters and fanboys and _dies_.

“Well then,” says Jongin, and he looks up at Kyungsoo right as he takes the tip of his cock into his mouth, flicking at the metal stud with his tongue. Kyungsoo’s eyes flash, and he practically _growls_ when Jongin starts sucking, reaching forward to brace himself on the exam table with one unsteady hand.

He closes his eyes, bobs his head one, twice, slick little noises sounding in the quiet room along with his own heavy breaths, pulled in harshly through his nose. The stretch is wide, the seams of his mouth aching, but the way Kyungsoo’s thighs tremble is worth it.

One of Jongin’s hands comes up to stroke around the base, touching and caressing all that he doesn’t think is possible to fit into his mouth. He continues at his slow pace for a little while – bobbing his head a few time before he comes up again to toy with the stud. Kyungsoo’s breathing sounds laboured.

Above him, he hears a long, drawn out, stuttering breath when he tries to take more in, the sound going straight to his own dick straining in the confines of his boxers. Jongin lets out the tiniest, prettiest, little whimper around the obstruction still in his mouth, and it’s that alone that seems to break the last of Kyungsoo’s control.

A hand fists into his hair, dragging him forward, his bare shins squeaking against the tiles as the cock in his mouth is pushed to the back of his throat. The little metal stud makes contact, after the second one drags across the roof of his mouth roughly.

Deep-throating is pretty uncharted territory for Jongin, so he splutters, trying to pull ragged breaths in through his nose when it ends up nestled in dark pubic hair. He tries not to choke as Kyungsoo grinds his hips against his face, hands gripping the edges of his shorts like his life depends on it.

“ _Thaat’s_ it baby,” Kyungsoo groans above him, and when he tips teary eyes to look up at him, Kyungsoo’s own roll back, his head tilting and the length of his neck coming into view as he moans. The hand in his hair releases just as Jongin’s lungs start to scream, and he begins to choke, pulling back to lightly cough away the sting in his throat.

“You’re so inexperienced,” Kyungsoo comments from above, and Jongin looks up with a watery pout at what he takes as mocking. But Kyungsoo’s got his smirk back on, and he wastes no time in dragging Jongin up from the floor with one hand on his chin and backing him up until his thighs hit the exam table.

Jongin gulps right as two rough hands come up to cage him in, one on the side of his face and the other fisting in his hair again, dragging him forward.

“Just makes me want to wreck you even _more_.”

The words melt into his lips at the last moment as Kyungsoo pushes up to connect their mouths, wasting no time with chaste kisses, and licking inside immediately. The intensity of it all has Jongin slipping back, bracing his hands against the table as Kyungsoo surges forward, pressing and swirling the metal stud against the underside of his tongue, massaging him with it in a way that makes his mind draw blanks.

Jongin whines pathetically, and his legs tremble, threatening to give out as he tries to return the gesture. Kyungsoo’s quick and efficient, the kiss quickly becoming an obscene mess of teeth and too much saliva. There’s drool leaking out of the corner of Jongin’s mouth, and his eyes are screwed shut, holding onto the table for dear life.

Kyungsoo makes an amused noise when Jongin’s legs slip another notch, and brings one hand down to loop around his torso, pulling their bodies flush, Jongin’s clothed erection rubbing against his thigh.

“I wanna fuck you,” Kyungsoo tells him breathlessly when they pull apart only a centimetre, Jongin’s chest rising and falling more rapidly than is probably healthy. He can’t help that Kyungsoo’s stealing all of his oxygen, turning all of the air around them into a hazy cloud of arousal. The tiny shocks of pleasure from where Kyungsoo’s thigh pushes against him short circuit in his brain, and Jongin can only blubber.

“P-please,” he manages, and that seems enough for Kyungsoo, as he pushes forward for another quick kiss, a rough bite to his lower lip before he’s pulling back, bending down to loop his hands behind Jongin’s thighs.

“Up on the table,” he instructs, helping Jongin on his shaky way up. His limbs feel like jelly as he trembles against plastic, and he’s more than happy to have Kyungsoo lift his arms in the air for him, do all the work in pulling his shirt off.

“Do you know why I got these _particular_ piercings, Jongin?” Kyungsoo asks as he hastily toes off his shoes and shucks his jeans and boxers to the side. Jongin appreciates the sight of those milky thighs all uninterrupted and exposed like that.

He shakes his head.

“It’s for,” Kyungsoo lifts one leg up onto the table, half kneeling, half standing, as he grabs Jongin’s wrists and bends him backwards, pinning them against the wall. “The increased sexual pleasure of my partners.”

Jongin gasps when Kyungsoo dives for his chest, dark hair ticklish against his charged skin as he laves his tongue – and the little metal stud on it – across one of his nipples. He squirms when Kyungsoo starts to suck, a nasal kind of wine working past closed lips, his knees clenching around the leg Kyungsoo still has planted on the ground.

His free hand comes up to thumb at Jongin’s other nipple, pulling back to tug, with the slightest hint of teeth at the one in his mouth. Jongin keens at that, closing his eyes and fighting against the restriction of his wrists, which only succeeds in making Kyungsoo hold him tighter.

“You’re so responsive,” Kyungsoo murmurs darkly, as he pulls back, and Jongin opens one eye in time to catch Kyungsoo crawl forward to hover just in front of his lips. “Baby, when I’m done with you, you aren’t even gonna remember your own name.”

Jongin never knew he had a thing for dirty talk, but the realisation gets lost somewhere between the shock of pleasure pulsing through his thighs at the words, and Kyungsoo pushing forward for another kiss. His wrists are released as a large hand presses into the small of his back, forcefully arching him forward so that their erections brush and they both moan, and Jongin finds he can finally touch Kyungsoo all he likes.

He claws at Kyungsoo’s clothed shoulder blades as the other licks sinfully into his mouth, feeling them shift and tense under his shirt, strong enough to snap him clean in half. Suddenly, the T-shirt between their skin is the most annoying and impenetrable barrier, so Jongin whines into the kiss in complaint.

“Kyungsoo,” he whimpers, when the other pulls away, tugging uselessly at the fabric of Kyungsoo’s shirt. The other practically _snarls_.

“Love it when you say my name,” his voice is husky as he pulls back just enough to rip the shirt over his head, Jongin only getting the quickest little glimpse of the outline of abs before Kyungsoo is back on him, pushing Jongin so his head knocks painfully against the wall. His palms end up caught between them, feeling up the warm muscles on Kyungsoo’s stomach, fingers curious as he trails them down. He mewls when Kyungsoo goes for his neck, biting and sucking on one spot near his ear that’s so sensitive, he hardly notices the pain. “Gonna make you say it a whole lot more.”

“Oh _god_ ,” Jongin gasps, as Kyungsoo grinds down on him, and his cock aches with pleasure inside his shorts. He’s so hard it hurts, and he’s practically going cross-eyed with the way he can’t seem to get enough oxygen into his lungs, can’t stop panting and shifting and whimpering all over the place.

Kyungsoo chuckles at that, pulling away to sit Jongin up properly. Jongin whines at the loss of contact, but it’s cut short when Kyungsoo makes a play for his shorts, the light pressure of his hands undoing the button and working the fly down already enough to have him gritting his teeth to keep from moaning.

“Let me show you _exactly_ what my piercings are all about,” he says, just as he reaches into Jongin’s boxers to take his cock out. Jongin chokes back a sob at the way he squeezes firmly around the base, his world spinning when Kyungsoo bends to lick a stripe all the way up the shaft, making sure to dig the metal stud in as much as possible.

The extra pressure has him swearing, spitting out an array of curse words so vibrant, that they would probably shock all of his friends stiff.

A devious smile is aimed up at him from below, before Kyungsoo takes the head of Jongin’s cock into his mouth, pressing the stud right into the slit.

Jongin sobs for real this time, lurching forward to brace himself on Kyungsoo’s shoulders, his own bangs hanging low in his eyes.

And Kyungsoo hums as he lowers further onto Jongin’s cock, the vibrations making Jongin spit and weep. It’s when he properly deep throats him, swallowing around the length of Jongin’s member, that Jongin writhes, his nails dragging angry red lines all the way up the back of Kyungsoo’s neck and into his hairline.

He blubbers in complaint when Kyungsoo pulls off with a _pop_ , and pats one of Jongin’s thighs like he’s a _good boy_.

“You’re going to come _far_ too fast if I keep that up,” he growls, hands fisting in the sides of Jongin’s shorts to drag them down along with his boxers. “Lift your hips,” he commands.

Jongin complies, letting Kyungsoo tug off his shorts, swearing shortly when they get caught on Jongin’s trainers, and he has to take an extra moment to work them over the shoes before he can toss them aside.

Then it’s a matter of split seconds before Jongin’s being forced further onto the table, lying back with his neck bent at an odd angle against the wall. It’s uncomfortable, but with the way Kyungsoo grabs both of his ankles, one in each hand, a short order of “legs up” leaving his lips, and nearly bending him in half, he can’t find it in himself to complain.

This position is _so_ revealing though, and he feels too exposed, if he’s honest. His lips wobble, and Kyungsoo seems to notice, because he rakes eyes over his body, pausing to scrape a bite against the underside of one thigh.

“Aren’t you a pretty thing,” he murmurs as he kisses over bruised flesh, and Jongin pants as the heat of the compliment washes over him.

They lock eyes as Kyungsoo trails lower, lips skimming down Jongin’s thigh. Jongin doesn’t realise what he’s doing until Kyungsoo’s face disappears from view, two hands on his ass-cheeks spreading him open, and suddenly those same lips are being pressed against his entrance in a wet kiss.

Jongin jolts half-upright in shock, nearly kicking Kyungsoo in the back in his surprise. His entire body tingles with excitement at the feeling, but this isn’t something Jongin’s ever done before, so he doesn’t understand why.

“What are you –”

“Shh, baby,” Kyungsoo tells him, looking up momentarily, and bending Jongin’s leg back into place. “It’ll feel good, trust me. Just relax.”

The arousal tinging Kyungsoo’s smooth voice has Jongin lying back down stiffly, closing his eyes and biting his lip at the foreign feeling of Kyungsoo licking a track over his entrance, right up to his balls. His cock pulses at the feeling, but he still isn’t quite sure about the idea of another man licking his asshole –

“ _Oh_ ,” says Jongin, body going lax and head rolling back when Kyungsoo finally pushes the tip of his tongue inside. It’s a foreign feeling, but not unpleasant _at all_ , especially when Kyungsoo spreads him further, pushing in enough to have the stud on his tongue catch on the rim. “ _Ahh_!” he gasps.

“Good?” teases Kyungsoo, when he pulls back after, what is in Jongin’s opinion, far too short a time. He shifts restlessly on the plastic covering of the table, his skin sticking and catching with sweat, even if the room is relatively cool.

“Don’t stop,” he sighs, hands landing in Kyungsoo’s hair to tug him back against his entrance. He gasps and wriggles when Kyungsoo resists. “Kyungsoo _please_.”

The other man chuckles.

“Anything for you.”

His rough hands spread Jongin further than he thinks he’s ever been spread before, but he doesn’t even have a moment to be shy about the exposure before Kyungsoo pokes his tongue in again, and Jongin feels weak at the knees from it all.

He doesn’t waste time with being gentle and experimental _this_ time, but sets up a quick rhythm, tongue-fucking him one moment, the next drawing back to suck on the rim, or run the stud across Jongin’s perineum. Jongin pants and moans and writhes, grinding down on Kyungsoo’s face as much as he can in this position – he’s never experienced pleasure like _this_ with any one of his previous partners, and Kyungsoo hasn’t even gotten around to fucking him yet.

He outright wails when on the next thrust of his tongue, Kyungsoo quickly works a finger in alongside the wet muscle, feeling around and stretching him open.

“Kyungsoo,” he pants brokenly, feeling wanton and ragged and _needy_. “Kyungsoo _please_.”

Kyungsoo pulls back with a grin, and his lips and chin are shiny with spit. He watches Jongin hungrily from his spot in between his legs.

“What is it baby?” He purrs, straightening up to tower over Jongin and running soothing, maddening hands over the tops of his thighs. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to –” Jongin trembles, shutting his eyes. The words on the tip of his tongue are _so_ embarrassing, and he wouldn’t’ be saying them if he weren’t so goddam _desperate_. “I want you to hurry up and fuck me.”

“Good boy,” Kyungsoo praises, leaning down to have Jongin luxuriating in a kiss so deep it leaves him clutching at Kyungsoo’s face with open palms. He pulls away leaving Jongin bewildered, head spinning as he’s manhandled into a sitting position. “Now get up.”

Jongin frowns but does as he’s told, tottering a few steps as his legs shake. Kyungsoo steadies him, grabbing him by the waist and spinning him around to face the exam table.

“Now,” Kyungsoo breathes, and Jongin cries out when there’s a sudden hand fisted into his hair, pushing him forward and forcing him to bend over, chest hitting the table. “I’m gonna need you to bend over for me.”

Jongin whimpers at the feeling of Kyungsoo just behind him, hovering, hot breath at his ear, his erection digging into his ass. “Stay here for me,” Kyungsoo growls, right before he pulls away, leaving Jongin to shudder both with the loss of body heat and the tone of his voice. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Kyungsoo moves away, not before a sharp slap to Jongin’s ass, making him yelp and jolt forward so his cock ruts against the exam table. Kyungsoo chuckles darkly, and Jongin hears rather than sees him leave the room, closing his eyes against the way everything spins with too much pleasure.

He hopes the other won’t be long, wherever he’s gone.

A moment later – but what feels like _forever_ to Jongin – Kyungsoo appears in the doorway again, but Jongin sees him stop there out of his peripheral vision. He turns his head to the side to see what’s taking him so long, and Kyungsoo’s just standing in the doorway, a bottle of lube in his hand and the _filthiest_ look on his face as he regards Jongin.

Jongin shifts, toes curling, all self-conscious. Kyungsoo stalks closer.

“Do you have any _idea_ what you look like right now?” he groans once he’s reached Jongin, bending over to blanket his back with his chest and breathe right into his ear. Jongin shivers when he hears him pop the cap on the lube, and squirt some out onto his fingers. “You’re _so_ damn attractive, Jongin. All spread out and flushed and waiting for me.”

Jongin just keens in response, but it ends up getting choked off when Kyungsoo pushes two fingers in without warning. Jongin’s done this before, but it’s been a while since he’s gotten laid, so the stretch burns a _lot_. He presses his forehead to the surface of the exam table, his breath stuttering as it humidly clouds around him.

Kyungsoo presses a kiss to the back of his neck as he scissors him open, and the stretch becomes easier. Another to his left shoulder blade when he pushes finger number three in along with the first two.

It takes four fingers, a lot of smouldering body-kisses, and whispered encouragements, before Kyungsoo finds his prostate. But when he does, Jongin’s whole body vibrates, a strangled noise making its way out of his throat as he claws uselessly at the exam table, now slippery with sweat, and Jongin’s own drool.

“That good?” Kyungsoo asks, as he massages his prostate frustratingly slow. Jongin can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes. “Kyungsoo?”

“Talk to me baby,” Kyungsoo tells him, kissing behind his earlobe. Jongin’s head clouds.

“C-can you fuck me now?”

Kyungsoo laughs.

“With pleasure.”

The fingers inside of him withdraw, the warm chest outlining his back disappearing as Kyungsoo straightens to pop the cap on the lube and slick himself up while Jongin clenches on nothing. He hears Kyungsoo hiss when he first touches himself, and tries to stop his heart from beating right out of his chest in anticipation.

“Now,” he hears Kyungsoo say, but he’s more focussed on the way the head of his cock is suddenly pressing and insistent against his entrance. The first stud catches on the rim, and he gasps. “I’m just going to –”

Kyungsoo doesn’t finish his sentence, choosing rather to go ahead and push in all the way in, in one slick movement that’s only interrupted by the way the second stud catches and drags against his entrance painfully. Jongin scrabbles for purchase on the slick surface of the table top.

“ _So big_ ,” he manages to choke out between the syllables of sound he keeps spitting from between clenched teeth. He knew Kyungsoo wasn’t going to be particularly gentle, but Kyungsoo’s dick is _huge_ , and the stretch _hurts_ , god dammit.

Kyungsoo kisses trails of electricity up his spine, running soothing hands up his sides in an effort to help him through the pain. Even as the stretch continues to burn, Jongin finds it strangely endearing as Kyungsoo whispers sweet nothings ( _ssh baby,_ and _just bear with me, okay?_ ) into the skin he’s just kissed, and his heart races with affection for the man he’s currently bent over for.

_No Jongin. Don’t be stupid. The last thing you want to do is go and catch feelings for some one-time fling._

That doesn’t stop him from pressing back into Kyungsoo’s warmth when he leans down again to speak low in his ear though.

“Can I move?”

It still hurts, but Jongin’s getting impatient too, so he grits his teeth and nods his head, the action causing his sweaty bangs to fall into his eyes.

Kyungsoo draws out, and pushes back in again slowly. Jongin whimpers at the way it still hurts, the piercing causing an extra little _zing_ of pain, but this time, it’s Kyungsoo’s turn to choke on sound.

“ _So_ tight,” he spits, and something in Jongin feels proud for having been able to break Kyungsoo’s composure like this. “Baby you’re so _tight_.”

Jongin just keens softly in answer, turning his head to the side to rest his cheek against the table top and watch Kyungsoo brace his hands on either side of Jongin’s own shoulders, hair dishevelled and sweaty as he grits his teeth and picks up a rhythm.

Kyungsoo wasn’t lying when he said his piercing increased sexual pleasure. The way the two studs press and drag inside him is unexpectedly exciting, sending tingles down his spine.

It doesn’t take long for him to adjust now, the pain forgotten in wake of dull pleasure. But Kyungsoo’s still babying him, still pushing in and pulling out too slowly, and Jongin huffs.

He didn’t think Kyungsoo would be gentle, and he doesn’t _want_ Kyungsoo to be gentle.

“Harder Kyungsoo,” Jongin turns around to see hesitation written on that face, but he picks up the pace slightly anyway. It’s still not enough. “C’mon. You can fuck me properly.”

Kyungsoo’s chest rumbles at that.

It’s so fast, the way the dynamic shifts and changes, the way Kyungsoo’s suddenly got Jongin’s wrists pinned behind his back with one hand, the other burying in his hair to snap his head back. When Kyungsoo next pulls his hips back, he slams back in with full force, and Jongin’s only reaction is to _howl_.

“Finally I get to hear something dirty from that mouth of yours.” Kyungsoo’s hips snap ruthlessly against him, the sound of skin against skin, heavy breathing, and the exam table creaking and smacking against the wall tellingly loud in the small room. Jongin thinks that if the shop has any neighbours, they probably know every detail of what’s going on right now.

It’s not long before Kyungsoo releases his wrists, letting go only to smack Jongin’s ass again, the same place as he had before, the skin stinging and tingling with too much sensation. Jongin’s hands fly up to stuff knuckles into his mouth to stop the train of profanities on his tongue from spilling over.

“You like that?” Kyungsoo wants to know, his voice growing hoarse from the exertion as he thrusts deeper, tries a new angle in search of Jongin’s prostate again. Jongin’s thigh tremble and give way at the possessiveness in his voice, and he slumps forward against the exam table, Kyungsoo’s thrusts making him smack against the plastic covering repeatedly.

“Yeah,” he whines, trying to turn to look at Kyungsoo, but the hand in his hair tightens, stinging, and he groans. “Hit me – hit me again Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo groans at the words.

Another sharp slap makes him cry out. By the fourth, the skin on his ass is reddened and puffy, and by the fifth, he’s starting to go numb, nothing more than a pleasantly painful tingle crawling across his skin. He chokes back tears when Kyungsoo rubs soothingly against the red patch, a gentle caress that’s so at odds with his previous rough treatment.

“God, you _do_ like it, don’t you?” Kyungsoo’s starting to punctuate each thrust with a grunt, the effort he has to put in to maintain his speed and depth starting to take its toll. The hand in his hair suddenly pulls _hard_ , and he finds himself being dragged up, his back lining up with Kyungsoo’s chest, his thighs mushed between Kyungsoo’s and the exam table.

He garbles through a few broken syllables at the sharp pain on his scalp before the hand releases, Kyungsoo’s arm coming to snake round his neck, pulling him flush against his own body. The new angle has Kyungsoo grinding up into him, and all at once, he hits Jongin’s prostate dead on, the extra pressure of the stud almost too much, and the younger yells.

The sound trails off into a repeated and sustained whimper, thighs trembling and giving out as Kyungsoo breathes heavily into his ear, continues thrusting up into his prostate with even more force than before. He’s so rough that Jongin’s teeth repeatedly clack together, his knees jarring on impact, and the only thing keeping him up is the arm around his neck, and the other one snaking around his waist now.

“You gonna let me choke you too?” Kyungsoo coos into his ear.

The idea is so painfully arousing to Jongin, so appealing that he can’t even work the answer past his lips for a full minute, only managing to blubber in response. Kyungsoo just chuckles darkly, whispers “take your time baby” into his ear, which doesn’t help Jongin gain his coherency back any faster.

When he finally manages to form words, he only manages to gurgle: “God please, please choke me, please _please please”_ before Kyungsoo has to calm him down by forcing his chin around, silencing him with a quick, messy kiss, before turning his head back to face the wall _for_ him.

Jongin feels the pace of Kyungsoo’s thrusts slow just slightly, and he’s about to complain when he feels him position arms around his neck. His blood thrums in his ears in anticipation, and Kyungsoo tightens his hold slightly, experimentally.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

The pressure is sudden and extreme, the arms around his neck tightening with crushing force, just before Kyungsoo _really_ starts to pound into him. His mouth gapes wide, goldfish-like as he tries to draw air into his protesting lungs. He feels like he’s floating, but at the same time everything’s in startling clarity – the feeling of Kyungsoo inside him, the warmth of the arms around his neck, the feeling of sweat trickling down his temples –

Kyungsoo lets go, and the air comes rushing back to his lungs just before he thinks he’s going to blackout. It comes with a rush of pleasure, absolute euphoria that Jongin’s never experienced before. He coughs and chokes and splutters, no sounds making it out of his raw throat, and with Kyungsoo’s next thrust, his legs give out completely, knees sagging as Kyungsoo slips out of him and fights to keep him up.

“Whoa there,” Kyungsoo laughs, pulling him up, but Jongin can’t seem to bear his own weight yet.

“Choke me again,” Jongin whines, finally managing to speak past the burning in his throat, the absolute fire in his lungs. “Kyungsoo _please_ , choke me again.”

“I will baby, I will,” Kyungsoo assures, turning Jongin around to face him and pinning him against the edge of the table. Jongin just pants, delirious and _wanting_. “You just have to get back up onto the table first.”

Jongin wobbles his way up obediently, Kyungsoo laying him down on his back this time and spreading his legs. His trainers – the only clothing he’s still wearing – dangle in mid-air somewhat ridiculously as Kyungsoo shoves back in roughly.

He spends a moment finding Jongin’s sweet spot again, but when he does, Jongin writhes and curses, tears forming in his eyes as he spits “choke me, choke me, _choke me_ ,” at Kyungsoo repeatedly.

There’s too much pleasure filling up Jongin’s body, assaulting him, white hot and painful as it coils tight in his belly. He’s never felt anything like this before.

“Alright baby, I’m getting there,” Kyungsoo smiles down at him indulgently. It seems a little forced though, with the way he’s gritting his teeth, gulping heavily. “I’m going to come soon. Are you going to come with me, after this?”

“Mm hmm,” Jongin nods frantically, the tears in his eyes spilling over in his desperation for Kyungsoo to just _choke him already._

“Good boy,” says Kyungsoo, and Jongin only has a few seconds to feel hot all over from the now familiar pet name before there are hands at his throat, and he can’t breathe.

In the back of his mind, his rational side is worrying about the way his fingertips go numb, but the part of him revelling in pleasure, feeling the rough slide of Kyungsoo’s in-and-out thrusting, the way it squelches obscenely, perfectly, has long since drowned that voice out. He wants to moan, but his mouth gapes uselessly for air, his lungs scream at him in protest, but all he can think is how _amazing_ this feels.

Kyungsoo lets go, and Jongin feels a hand on his cock, tugging and jerking him off before he even has a chance to gasp at the oxygen around him gratefully. Feeling returns to his extremities, and when he finds his voice, he howls.

He’s in too much pleasure, and it has to peak somewhere. He feels himself burning, on fire, as his end rushes upon him.

“Gonna,” Jongin tries, his voice hoarse as he reaches up to grab at Kyungsoo’s shoulders. “Gonna come.”

“Me too, baby, me too.” Kyungsoo works his hand harder, starts thrusting so hard Jongin thinks he’s going to split in half, the table slamming up against the wall repeatedly, and so hard it’s legs might give out any moment. Jongin babbles nonsensical syllables at the increased _everything_. “Come for me.”

It takes another two tugs on Jongin’s cock before he arches up into Kyungsoo, a scream choked off as he bites down onto his shoulder and comes, ropes and ropes of white getting all over both of them and the table. Kyungsoo grunts heavily when Jongin clenches too hard, holding himself back with all of his might to stop from coming inside Jongin along with him.

He slows down his thrusts, even though he wants nothing more than to pound into the boy in front of him mercilessly, as Jongin comes down from his high. The other slumps back, exhausted as he lets go of Kyungsoo, and the other pulls out with a squelch, reaching down to jerk himself off and finish on Jongin’s chest too, their collective come white and glistening as it drips down the side of Jongin’s body and gets on the table.

Kyungsoo sinks forward, catching himself on his elbows as he hovers over Jongin, the disgusting mix of semen and sweat getting on his own chest when he makes contact. Jongin turns his head to look up blearily, and Kyungsoo smiles at him.

It’s softer, warmer than any of his previous smiles, and Kyungsoo looks less cocky like this, all blissed out and mussed up. Before he knows what’s happening, the other leans forward to catch his lips in a lingering kiss, the contact smouldering as he licks into Jongin’s mouth sensually, making his toes curl.

There’s all this delightful, post-orgasm bliss coiling around in his system, and Jongin sighs, luxuriating in the feeling of plush lips against his own.

“I enjoyed that,” he tells Jongin, when he pulls back to smooth his bangs out of his eyes. His after-sex voice is so sexy-husky, that Jongin thinks he could listen to this and nothing else forever.

“I did too.” Jongin’s own voice cracks, and he blushes and covers his face.

Now that the sex is over, he’s shy again.

Kyungsoo laughs pleasantly and leans forward to plant a kiss on his forehead before he pulls away completely. Jongin props himself up on his elbows to watch what he’s doing.

“I bet that made you forget about your fear of needles,” Kyungsoo shoots a smirk over his shoulder while he opens a drawer to find something. It’s still softer than before, mellowed out in the bubbly pink haze that seems to permeate the room. In Jongin’s eyes at least.

He puffs out a weak laugh.

He’d completely forgotten about the piercing, to be honest.

Kyungsoo comes back with a pack of wet wipes, smiling down at Jongin as he cleans him up. Jongin’s touched by the action – from what he’s heard from his friends about casual hook-ups, you’re usually lucky if they let you hang around for even five minutes afterwards.

But Jongin’s not supposed to be feeling things about Kyungsoo. This was all casual fun to him. And in ten minutes, they won’t be seeing each other ever again.

After they’re both cleaned up, Kyungsoo slowly pulls Jongin to his feet, helping him find his clothes and get them back on again. A sharp pain shoots up Jongin’s spine when he tries to take a step, and he feels bruised all over.

“I’m sore,” he whines, forgetting himself momentarily. Kyungsoo chuckles at him, and Jongin blushes.

“Sorry about that,” he smiles softly, reaching up to run gentle fingers over the bruises forming on his neck. “And sorry about these.”

Jongin pouts, feeling childish.

“I-it’s okay,” he mumbles, cheeks growing hotter at what he’s about to admit. “I really – I really wanted you to…”

Kyungsoo laughs a bit louder this time, and Jongin’s looking at his feet, so he doesn’t have any warning before there are hands on either side of his face, and he’s being tugged down into a chaste kiss. Kyungsoo pulls away, but remains close, and Jongin stares at him, eyes wide.

“You’re just so cute,” Kyungsoo coos, and he’s so warm, so affectionate, it makes Jongin want to believe his every word. “Makes me wanna keep you.”

Jongin’s lips wobble.

_No feelings,_ he reminds himself.

Kyungsoo watches the expressions shift and change on Jongin’s face from under his lashes, before he steps back and asks: “Where’s your phone?”

Jongin frowns at the question, but fishes in his pocket for the device anyway, and puts it in Kyungsoo’s outstretched hand. Kyungsoo fiddles around with it for a few moments, before handing it back, and when Jongin looks at the screen, he sees Kyungsoo’s saved his own name and number in Jongin’s phone book.

He doesn’t have a chance to respond before Kyungsoo’s own phone is being pressed into his palm.

“Now give me yours.”

Jongin shakily does as he’s told, his heart racing, because _does this mean he wants to see me again?_

When Jongin hands the phone back, Kyungsoo pockets it with a smile.

“I’ll text you sometime soon, okay?”

Jongin’s heart flutters.

Minutes later, the two of them are back in the front of the shop, and the cash registers _chings_ when Kyungsoo hands Jongin change for his payment.

“Thanks for your patronage,” Kyungsoo grins cheekily, and if Jongin knew him any better than he does now, he probably would have smacked him for that comment.

“It’s a pleasure,” he manages weakly. His body is tired and sore, and even though he feels all relaxed and blissed out, all he wants now is a nap, not a subway-ride home.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” says Kyungsoo as Jongin turns to leave. “Oh, and Jongin?”

Jongin turns back in question only to find Kyungsoo’s leaning right across the counter, a hand fisted into the front of his shirt as he tugs him back for a thorough kiss.

“I’ll text you, okay?” Kyungsoo’s voice is heated when he pulls back, and Jongin knows his cheeks are beet red by now.

“Okay,” Jongin nods, turning around to wobble out of the shop just as the front door tinkles open, and Sehun pushes his way back in.

The taller man pauses. Takes one look at Jongin, his red cheeks, and his shuffled steps, and frowns. Takes another at Kyungsoo, his smug expression, and his sex-mussed hair, and sighs.

“Kyungsoo, I swear to god, you will disinfect every inch of that room or I will _personally_ see to it that the police come and shut this place down,” he bites.

Kyungsoo just laughs. Pleasantly.

Jongin kind of wants to die.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day on campus, Jongin catches sight of his friends laughing and chattering together at lunch, and approaches them slowly.

_Slowly_ , because he’s still sore as fuck.

He sits down at the table with them quietly, and the others don’t pay much attention to his existence, or his quiet “hey guys”, until Baekhyun stops, mid-rant about something stupid that Chanyeol did, and stares at Jongin.

“Jongin,” he says carefully, so much surprise in his eyes that Jongin gets slightly offended. Did Baekhyun really not believe he’d go through with the piercing? “What is _that_?”

Jongdae and Chanyeol both turn to look as well now.

And stare.

“This?” he asks in confusion, pointing to his ear piercing. It makes sense for the other two to look like that, he supposes, but Chanyeol? “It’s an ear piercing. I got it done yester –”

“No, no, not _that_.” Baekhyun waves him off. “I know about the piercing, Chanyeol told me yesterday. I’m talking about _that_.”

Baekhyun points to his neck. Jongin looks confused.

Chanyeol’s jaw drops.

“That mark on your neck, dude.” Jongdae narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Or like, several of them, if you look closely.”

Jongin’s eyes widen in realisation right at the point that Chanyeol starts to laugh hysterically, and he whips out his phone to turn on his front-facing camera to check.

Sure enough, there’s a bright red hickey just under his ear that he must have missed this morning in his sleepy daze, and an array of purpling bruises that haven’t quite come up yet, but are going to be ugly and _entirely_ visible in a couple of days’ time.

“Dude,” Chanyeol gasps through his laughter as he collapses on the table. “The piercer guy – oh my god – I didn’t think you’d really –”

He’s cut off by Baekhyun turning to him, grabbing him by the front of his hoodie, shaking him, and demanding answers.

Jongdae starts whining about Jongin not telling them anything, and that’s about the point at which he decides to tune the group out.

In his hand, his phone vibrates, and the screen lights up to tell him he has a new message.

It’s from _Kyungsoo_.

He quickly opens it.

 

 

_[From: Kyungsoo_

_Hey baby, hope you’re walking straight._

_Dinner Friday? <3_

_Delivered: 1:03pm]_

 

 

Jongin unknowingly smiles at his phone, and his heart flutters when he thinks of the perfect response.

He doesn’t get the chance though, because before he can even press the _‘reply’_ button, a manicured hand appears in his field of vision, whisking the phone out of his fingers as Baekhyun demands: “What are you smiling at?”

Jongin blushes bright red as the group around them goes completely silent for a few seconds, holding their breaths as Baekhyun scans over the message quickly.

Baekhyun screams.

 

 


	2. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongin has a surprise for Kyungsoo. He’s not sure if he’ll like it though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back by popular demand...

 

 

_“Are you_ sure _you know what you’re doing?”_

_“Jongin, I help Kyungsoo out with this all the time. I got this, man.”_

_“Okay cool, but do you just_ help him out _, or have you, you know, actually_ done _it before, because –”_

_“Jongin, relax. It’s gonna be fine.”_

_“Are you sure?”_

_“Yes, now hold still – Jongin, god dammit!”_

_“Sehun, I swear, if I get in an infection –”_

_“You won’t. Now hold the fuck still.”_

_“But –”_

_“Okay, are we gonna do this or not? ‘Cos I_ do _have other clients, you know.”_

_“Alright, fine. Fine. Let’s do this. I’m ready.”_

_“You’re babbling.”_

_“Am not!”_

_“Are too.”_

_“Sehun just get on with it!”_

_“Okay, fine. I’m in position and – here we go.”_

_._

_._

_Jongin screams._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Consciousness swimming on the edges of sleep, Jongin’s eyes slipped closed as he sighs dreamily. It’s delightfully warm in the sun where he sits, head pillowed on his arms, at one of the tables on the edge of the campus lawns. He’s quite happy to doze, with no classes for another two periods, and no work pressing enough for him to feel guilty for taking a late-morning nap.

 

But there’s a problem.

 

His phone is ringing.

 

And it’s _Baekhyun_.

 

Honestly, it should be against the rules of _life_ for anyone to be woken up from such a delicious nap to talk to someone like _Baekhyun_.

 

He groans loudly as it goes to its sixth ring. Why can’t he just _sleep_?

 

And it might be his imagination, but the ringing gets louder, more insistent.

 

Alright, fine.

_Fine_.

 

“Hello?” Jongin knows he sounds bleary as fuck, but he can’t find it in himself to give much of a damn when Baekhyun’s voice filters over the line in obnoxious reply.

 

“You sleep way too much, Jongin. Learn to drink coffee like the rest of us.”

 

“But it’s gross,” Jongin pouts, finally sitting up and stretching one arm behind his back, resigned to having this conversation after all.

 

“It’s my lifeblood,” Baekhyun states simply, and Jongin can hear muffled voices on the other line in the background, like Baekhyun is calling from somewhere crowded. “But as much as I like discussing the merits of coffee, I called because I need to ask you a favour.”

 

“What is it, hyung?” Jongin yawns, rubbing at his eyes. It always takes him too long to wake up.

 

“Can I copy your notes for psych later?” And Jongin can picture how Baekhyun’s eyes turn even more droopy and puppyish than normal as he pleads, even if he’s not there with him. “It’s my last class, and I have recital five minutes after it ends all the way on the other side of campus. I won’t make it on time, and you _know_ how Luhan likes to bitch.”

 

Jongin scratches his head.

 

“Please Jonginnie?”

 

“I would if I could hyung,” Jongin sighs, shifting to rest his cheek on one palm and spare his achy neck – impromptu naps tend to do that to him. “But I’m actually ditching that class too.”

 

“ _Ooh_ ,” Baekhyun’s tone is immediately playful, and Jongin wonders how he _ever_ manages to keep up with the other’s mood swings. “Hot date?”

 

“Yeah, something like that,” Jongin smiles softly to himself. “Kyungsoo’s getting back tonight.”

 

Jongin and Kyungsoo have been dating for three months now. After the… unconventional way in which they met, they’d ended up hitting it off in ways other than in the bedroom. Kyungsoo is caring and gentle in reality – steady and kind when Jongin needs him to be. It’s only during sex that he turns into a bit (re: a _lot_ ) of a freak, and Jongin’s surprised he loves that so much, having never discovered that part of himself before, with any of his stiflingly vanilla ex-boyfriends.

 

“So you’re skipping class to go have marathon sex to make up for his absence, right?” Baekhyun giggles, and Jongin flushes.

 

Kyungsoo’s been away for the past three weeks, on holiday with his family in Jeju. Turns out, Kyungsoo’s parents are pretty loaded, so even though being a piercer doesn’t exactly earn him a lot, he’s well-off enough on his inheritance alone.

 

“Why do you always say things like that?” Jongin whines into the receiver as Baekhyun laughs, and even though the other’s not there to see him, he hides his flaming cheeks in the cup of a palm, embarrassed by how easily he gets so worked up.

 

“Hey, it’s not my fault you let him fuck you literally half an hour after you guys met,” Baekhyun’s having way too much fun. “You’re just giving me too much to work with here.”

 

A wry smile works itself onto Jongin’s lips despite his mortification.

 

“You’re impossible hyung.”

 

“You love me for it,” Baekhyun shoots back, undeterred. “Ok listen, my lecture’s about to start. Just so we’re clear, that’s a no? I can’t copy your notes?”

 

“No, unfortunately not. Sorry hyung.”

 

“It’s alright,” Baekhyun sighs. “I’ll try Jongdae instead, see if he has notes from the morning lecture. Thanks anyway Jonginnie!”

 

“Bye hyung,” Jongin says, right before the other hangs up.

 

He sighs, trying to relax back into the nap he was about to sink into before Baekhyun called. It doesn’t happen though, and his phone vibrates against the table top instead, waking him out of his semi-doze.

 

He’s about to be annoyed at the second interruption of his attempted-sleep, when he sees who sent the message. He opens it quickly, that same soft smile from before threatening to pull up the corners of his mouth.

 

 

 

_[From: Kyungsoo_

_My flight is delayed, so I won’t_  
make it to dinner tonight after   
all. Sorry baby. Going to get   
back kinda late too - don’t wait   
up for me, k?

_Delivered: 11:17am]_

 

 

 

Jongin pouts at his phone, disappointed. They’d booked for _such_ a nice restaurant, and he’d been looking forward to seeing his boyfriend, after such a long time apart.

 

He quickly types back _Aww :(_ as a response, and then a second message that reads: _I’m gonna wait up for you anyway though._

 

It only takes another moment for a response to come through.

 

 

 

_[From: Kyungsoo_

_Don’t. You have class  
tomorrow._

_Delivered: 11:18am]_

 

 

 

Jongin bites his lip, feeling apprehension tingle in his fingertips as they hover over the keyboard, unsure of what to type back in response. His stomach does this little flip, but it’s not entirely unpleasant.

 

It takes him a little longer to write a response this time, because he takes a moment to text Baekhyun and tell him he can copy his psych notes after all – he has no reason to skip now that Kyungsoo’s getting back so late, and Baekhyun texts backs with way too many emojis for Jongin to deal with. He tells his hyung to stop texting in class, and Baekhyun’s next message is nothing but the emoji with its tongue sticking out.

 

He closes the message with a snort, and goes to reply to Kyungsoo instead.

 

 

 

_[To: Kyungsoo_

_But I have a surprise  
for you :3_

_Delivered: 11:21am]_

 

  

* * *

 

  

It’s really late by the time Kyungsoo gets back – so late that Jongin has dozed off, sprawled across the dark blue comforter of Kyungsoo’s bed. But the soft click of the front door opening, and the sound of suitcase wheels catching on the threshold pull him to consciousness, and he’s on his feet, pattering into the living room sleepily just as Kyungsoo shuts the front door behind himself.

 

They’re not living together yet, but Kyungsoo’s small apartment is just three subway stops away from campus, and much nicer than his cramped little dorm room, so he ends up sleeping here most nights anyway. Kyungsoo’s even given him a spare key and dedicated a whole shelf in his cupboard to Jongin’s things, because for some reason, he still hasn’t learnt that Jongin’s just going to steal his worn T-shirts anyway, parade around campus in his boyfriend’s hoodies.

 

(It’s not his fault, really. Kyungsoo wears expensive cologne, and they smell good.)

 

“Jongin?” His voice is soft as Jongin blinks the blur out of his eyes, and when they click into focus, there’s _Kyungsoo_ , the person he’s been missing – downright _longing_ for – for the past three weeks, right there, hovering just in front of the doorframe.

 

He crosses the room before he even knows what he’s doing, fingers landing, to twist, in the soft cotton of Kyungsoo’s T-shirt. He can’t even get out a greeting before he’s leaning down, feeling Kyungsoo’s breath simmer across his face before he kisses him, soft, chaste brushes and nuzzles a testament to how long it’s been, how deprived he feels.

 

“Hi,” Jongin breathes, a little bashful, when he pulls away. Kyungsoo chuckles quietly, and it’s such a _nice_ feeling – the way the muscles between his ribs shift and move against Jongin’s hands, the way he’s warm and tangible and _there_. It makes Jongin’s eyelashes flutter, much like his heart.

 

“Hi,” Kyungsoo mimics with the tiniest trace of a smirk, herding Jongin out of his space so that he can wheel his suitcase through to the bedroom. Jongin hovers beside him, touching at his elbow just as Kyungsoo gets through to the other room.

 

“I missed you,” he tells him, pouting a little childishly. “You were gone for so long.”

 

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo turns to catch the hand on his elbow with his own, reaching back to pull the bedroom door shut, putting himself into much more of Jongin’s personal space than he strictly needs to. “I missed you too.”

 

“Was your flight ok?” Jongin asks as his pulse picks up – the sustained proximity much more than he’s gotten used to of late. Kyungsoo’s staring at him as if considering something, and Jongin can still see the other hand hovering over his suitcase, knows that Kyungsoo likes to get his unpacking done immediately.

 

It doesn’t help that Kyungsoo’s wearing that leather jacket that Jongin loves so much. It makes him look like _such_ a daddy –

 

“Bit of turbulence,” he murmurs, and he seems to put a quick end to his mental battle when he moves forward to crowd Jongin back against the door. “We were delayed ‘cause of a storm, and there was still a bit of bad weather around. Nothing too scary though.”

 

Jongin _would_ respond properly – but Kyungsoo chooses that moment to lean forward and kiss up his throat, so Jongin just tilts his head back against the wood, eyes falling closed as he hums in appreciation. “Mmm. I’m glad you’re back.”

 

“So am I,” Kyungsoo speaks into the skin just below his ear, the whisper sounding disproportionately loud in the otherwise quiet room. “Were you waiting up for me?”

 

Jongin feels hands come up to rest on his hips, sliding up to his waist and down again – never stilling, like he can’t quite touch enough of him. Jongin knows the feeling.

 

“Yes.” Something nervous and apprehensive licks at his stomach. He swallows the fear quickly. “I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see you.”

 

“And why is that, exactly?” Kyungsoo’s voice drips down his spine, a little tickle of electricity, and he gulps from the combined nerves and arousal.

 

He knows Kyungsoo’s curious. About his ‘surprise’.

 

“I have a surprise for you.” Jongin’s hands move to hold onto Kyungsoo’s in their place on his hips, and his pulse beats harder in his ears, a little unsure of himself. “But I don’t know if you’ll – I don’t know how you’ll react.”

 

“Show me,” Kyungsoo says, and Jongin outright shivers at the subtle dominance in the command. He’s missed this. He’s missed this _so much_.

 

And it’s a little too late to worry about how Kyungsoo’s going to react anyway. He’s just going to have to deal with it, whatever ‘it’ might be.

 

He pushes Kyungsoo a small step back, letting go of his hands, and, with eyes on Kyungsoo the entire time, lips parted, and breath shaky, he fingers the edge of his sleeping shirt a moment, before pulling it off in one, swift movement.

 

Kyungsoo does not gasp. But when Jongin re-emerges from pulling the shirt over his head, Kyungsoo has his eyes on his chest, and he’s perfectly still, perfectly rapt, just taking a moment to let it all sink in.

 

Jongin’s fingers shake, nerves jittery as he waits for Kyungsoo to do or say something. Anything.

 

“You got,” Kyungsoo starts, seeming to snap out of a daze as he closes the small gap between them, hand raised as if to touch, but not quite making it. Jongin feels like that single touch might electrocute him. “You got nipple piercings?”

 

There’s a slight furrow to Kyungsoo’s eyebrows. Jongin hasn’t yet figured out if that’s anger or confusion, but he sure hopes it’s the latter.

 

He nods.

 

“But who…?” this time Kyungsoo does touch him, one firm finger pressing to the sensitive skin just under the metal bar through his right nipple. Jongin gasps, tingling right down to his toes as he struggles for words. “Who pierced them for you?”

 

“Sehun,” he manages, after swallowing harshly, and Jongin knows there’s no way Kyungsoo can’t tell he’s already a mess – breath coming in soft pants, jittery and all over the place – from just this. From just a couple of kisses, sustained proximity and one, tiny, little touch.

 

“You let Sehun pierce your nipples?” And this time, Kyungsoo’s voice carries something that sounds a lot like shock. Jongin doesn’t know if that’s necessarily a good thing.

 

“Yes, I –”

 

“You let _Sehun_ pierce them?” Kyungsoo repeats, cutting him off. His eyes are wide, eyebrows drawn high, when they finally snap up from the twin metal bars adorning Jongin’s chest to search his face beseechingly. Jongin withers in on himself. This isn’t good.

 

“Yeah, he said he helps you out a lot and –”

 

“That’s not,” Kyungsoo closes his eyes, mouth pressed into a thin line. He’s angry. Jongin _made_ him angry and – “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Jongin. That wasn’t a safe thing to do.”

 

“They didn’t get infected,” Jongin supplies, in a small voice, gripping the T-shirt in his hands roughly. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were supposed to make Kyungsoo happy, not angry and disappointed in him. This is _all wrong_.

 

“And I’m glad,” Kyungsoo’s eyes snap open and he fixes him with a hard glare. Jongin shrinks back, thighs curving in on themselves because despite everything, Kyungsoo’s _really hot_ when he’s mad _,_ and it’s not like Jongin wasn’t _already_ turned on _._ “But they’re still healing, so I’m going to have to watch them very carefully from now on. Don’t do something like this again without telling me.”

 

Jongin pouts, looking at his feet. Thinking about it now, he feels kind of stupid – both for trusting Sehun (especially when he knows the other is _exactly_ the type to do something irresponsible like this), and for not talking to Kyungsoo about the piercings first.

 

Maybe it wasn’t a smart thing to try and surprise him with.

 

“Do I make myself clear?” Kyungsoo asks, and Jongin quickly nods. He’s using his commanding voice. He _knows_ what the commanding voice does to Jongin –

 

“Good,” and Jongin thinks he sees the flicker of a smirk before it disappears behind the hard set of his eyebrows, the clench of his jaw. “Now get on your knees.”

 

Jongin outright _whimpers_ at the command, and he obliges – sliding down until his knees hit the floor with a dull _thud_ , legs folding underneath him and thighs parted, coming face to face with the bulge in Kyungsoo’s jeans. Jongin can see he’s not hard yet, and it’s totally unfair when he’s already twitching and sensitive inside of his boxers.

_But Kyungsoo probably already knows that,_ Jongin thinks, right before his train of thought cuts out completely when Kyungsoo steps up close, looking down at him with dark, swimming eyes.

 

He looks so powerful like this, and Jongin feels his lower lip tremble when one hand reaches down to tuck some hair behind his left ear, fingers trailing carefully across the piercings there.

 

He’s gotten two more since he first met Kyungsoo. Another two helix piercings on either side of the first, forming a tiny row of glittering metal studs that his friends like to say make him look more bad-ass than he actually is.

 

But Jongin’s not thinking about them right now.

 

“I’m the only one who’s pierced you before this,” Kyungsoo muses, eyes trailing lower, impassive, over the studs on Jongin’s chest, and the bulge in his boxers. “It feels oddly like you’re cheating on me.”

 

“No!” Jongin gasps, eyes flying wide as his hands shoot up to grasp Kyungsoo’s hips. “I didn’t mean – I didn’t know you’d – _please_ don’t take it like that!”

 

But Kyungsoo just tuts softly, ignoring Jongin’s blubbering as he removes his hands, dropping them to land limply on his own parted thighs.

 

“Already so misbehaved tonight,” he admonishes, the corners of his lips pulling down. “Are you trying to make daddy angry?”

 

Something warm drizzles in Jongin’s stomach. So this is going to be one of _those_ nights. “No,” he shakes his head quickly. “No daddy, I’m sorry.”

 

“Good,” Kyungsoo nods slowly, his smirk appearing properly now. “I’m going to have to punish you anyway, though. For these.”

 

He reaches down and touches one of Jongin’s fresh piercings with the lightest of pressures. Jongin gasps, jolting, and Kyungsoo pulls away immediately.

 

In the back of his mind, Jongin knows he’s trying not to damage them, that even when Kyungsoo gets like this, he’s still not irresponsible, that he can control himself.

 

But _god_ he wishes Kyungsoo could just play with them properly already.

 

“Stay here,” Kyungsoo commands, and Jongin’s pulse races near dangerous when Kyungsoo moves to the cupboard, because that’s where he keeps his _toys_. “What’s the safe word, Jongin?”

 

It’s sweet, how Kyungsoo always insists. Even if Jongin hardly ever _uses_ it.

 

“Red,” he answers anyway. He’s long since learnt that no safe word means no sex, and even if Jongin’s had a hard time convincing Kyungsoo in the past that the last thing he wants him to do is _stop_ , he likes to feel cared for like this. “The safe word is red.”

 

When Kyungsoo comes back a moment later, all he has in his hands is a length of silky black material, and Jongin nearly whines out loud.

 

It’s a blindfold.

 

(He knows because they’ve used it plenty before, and the memories have his arousal spiking, the tension in the room thickening.)

 

“Move forward a bit baby,” Kyungsoo smirks as Jongin shivers at the familiar pet name he’s missed so much. “So I can put this on you.”

 

Jongin shuffles forward on his shins so Kyungsoo can cover his eyes with the soft fabric, and lean forward to tie the knot without hitting his head on the door. His pupils blow wide at the sudden darkness, and his thighs spread a little more into the floor when his sense of hearing picks up to compensate, the sound and the feeling of Kyungsoo’s breath across his face a torment.

 

“Can you see?” Kyungsoo checks, and when Jongin shakes his head, he feels a hand caress his cheek. When he tries to lean into the touch, the hand is immediately gone, and Kyungsoo says: “Give me a moment.”

 

He hears Kyungsoo move softly back to the cupboard to get something else – lube, Jongin presumes, so that he won’t have to waste time getting it later, when they’re both desperate. He knows Kyungsoo _hates_ that.

 

Footsteps come back towards him – his sense of where Kyungsoo is coming from the creaking of the floorboards, the way his jeans rub against themselves at the thighs when he walks. And then he can feel body heat just in front of him, a soft ruffling as Kyungsoo slips out of what Jongin presumes is his jacket before it hits the floor. Then there’s a sharper sound – a zipper being pulled down, and Kyungsoo hisses into the quiet of the room as he slips himself out of his boxers.

 

“Open your mouth,” he instructs, and Jongin’s thighs throb as he complies. Thick fingers bury in his hair to told him steady, and a moment later, something warm brushes against the corner of his mouth.

 

The stud on the end of Kyungsoo’s cock catches against Jongin’s teeth briefly, clicking loudly as he nudges the head in. “Suck,” Kyungsoo commands, and Jongin closes his lips around the ridge, sliding them down and over the second stud to suckle lightly around the head.

 

He shakes even as he goes a little harder, increasing the suction and swirling his tongue in slow circles around the tip, just how he knows Kyungsoo likes it. The noises, along with his own harsh panting and Kyungsoo’s markedly quieter breathing, are obscene, and when he draws back to flick his tongue at the first stud, Kyungsoo mutters a low _“fuck”_ under his breath.

 

The hand in his hair tightens to a prickle along his scalp, and just knowing he’s affecting Kyungsoo like this has him mewling, hand drifting up from his thigh to palm himself through his boxers lightly.

 

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” Kyungsoo demands, yanking him off with no warning to stop himself from dribbling all down his chin and onto his chest.

 

“N-no,” he pants out, even as he pushes the heel of his palm in a little more just to test Kyungsoo’s limits. The loss of his sight makes the raw authority in Kyungsoo’s voice just that much more arousing, and Jongin wants even _more_ of it.

 

Something rough wraps around his bicep, tugging the hand on his crotch up and away.

 

“Hands behind your back,” Kyungsoo orders, and Jongin knows with a swoop of his stomach what’s coming next, so he gurgles.

 

“Don’t,” he blubbers. “Kyungsoo don’t. I’ll be good, I promise. Don’t tie me –”

 

“Who said you could call me by my name?” The grip around his arm tightens, and Jongin struggles weakly. “Now put them behind your back if you don’t want me to tie your legs too.”

 

That does it. Jongin’s hands fly behind his back so fast that the hold Kyungsoo has on him makes him stumble forward a little, footfalls loud on the floorboards.

 

“That’s better,” Kyungsoo says, and Jongin can hear and feel him circle to be behind him. “That’s the kind of obedience I expect always, okay?”

 

He feels the rope brush his wrists first, before Kyungsoo’s fingers work on tying him up. His head swims with its blindness, too hot and feverish even though with nightfall, the room is anything but. It’s only heightened when the knot is pulled snug, and Jongin is caught and bound properly.

 

“I asked you a question,” Kyungsoo reminds him, and suddenly, there’s a hand gripping him by the hair again, the one still on his bound wrists pulling them back just enough to ache, but not enough for Jongin to complain about the pain yet.

 

“I-I’m sorry Kyungsoo,” Jongin quakes, expecting the rough treatment to abate, but the next thing he knows is the hand in his hair pulls him back _hard_ , and the heel of Kyungsoo’s shoe is biting into his lower back as he nearly snaps him in half at the shoulders by virtue of the grip on his wrists.

 

“ _What_ did you call me?” Kyungsoo growls, and Jongin makes a continued, strangled, breathy noise in his throat as he’s bent back unnaturally, the pressure only increasing. When there’s no immediate reply, the hand in his hair twists sharply, a burning pain erupting all over his scalp right before Kyungsoo digs his shoe in against his skin, ripping a yowl from Jongin’s throat is it grates roughly against the small of his back. “Answer me.”

 

“I’m sorry daddy,” Jongin’s got tears threatening to soak into the blindfold as he chokes on sound. In the back of his mind, he’s wondering if the shoe on his back has broken any skin yet, and he knows that tonight is going to leave marks. _Lots_ of marks. “Daddy – daddy, I’m sorry.”

 

And _god_ he’s just…

_So_ turned on right now.

 

“That’s better,” Kyungsoo concedes, lightening the pressure on his back before removing his shoe altogether and letting go of his wrists. The hand in his hair stays, pulling him to sit upright again, with an aftershock of pain. “Seems you’ve forgotten your manners while I was away.”

 

After another moment, Kyungsoo is back in front of him, prying his jaw open with a thumb.

 

“Now, where were we?” He asks, so quietly that Jongin doesn’t think he would have heard him if he wasn’t so desperately straining to hear everything that is Kyungsoo right now.

 

This time, when Kyungsoo pushes his cock into Jongin’s mouth, it feels heavier and harder than before, more swollen around the tip, the taste a bit stronger as it leaks pre-come. Kyungsoo’s been getting off on shoving him around like this, and the thought alone has him squirming, teeth accidentally grazing over the ridge.

 

Somewhere above him, Kyungsoo chokes, and Jongin feels the hips in front of his face stutter forward at the feeling. But without the hand in his hair, it just nudges Jongin’s whole head back a little, instead of forcing deeper into his mouth.

 

“Take more,” Kyungsoo instructs, and Jongin does as he’s told, sliding down to about halfway. Kyungsoo’s so big it already has the corners of his mouth aching – and Jongin knows he isn’t going to be nice tonight and let him off before he’s taken it all. “ _More_ , Jongin.”

 

Jongin tries to sink further down the shaft, but then the tip brushes his gag reflex, and he instinctively pulls back coughing, the cock slipping out of his mouth completely. Kyungsoo’s completely hard now though, and he can feel the length brush his chin as he lurches forward.

 

He tries to shove back in again before Jongin’s fully recovered, but just ends up smearing spit and pre-come all across Jongin’s cheek as he pants for air.

 

“C-can’t,” Jongin complains between breaths. Kyungsoo’s been gone so long that he’s fallen out of practice, and it’s not like it was _ever_ easy to begin with.

 

“C’mon baby, you can do better than that,” the other scolds, hands back to caress Jongin’s jaw. “We weren’t even going very fast. Do you need daddy to help you?”

 

Jongin nods, swallowing down the last of his discomfort and shuffling on his shins even as his thighs catch and rub with how sweaty they are. The hand in his hair is a mirror of how hard Kyungsoo pulled before, and the flare of pain has him gasping enough for Kyungsoo to push back in without warning.

 

It’s evidently uncomfortable – with the way Jongin’s muffled noise of surprise gets overshadowed by the grunt from above him when Kyungsoo’s cock catches on teeth Jongin hasn’t yet had a chance to tuck away.

 

“ _Shit_ ,” Kyungsoo curses, and Jongin sways – with no hands to ground himself – as the other stumbles. “That hurt. Daddy doesn’t like it when you use teeth, baby.”

 

Jongin makes a wanton, whimpery kind of noise around Kyungsoo’s cock, and hopes it suffices as an apology, because there’s not much else he can say with his mouth full like this.

 

It doesn’t seem to, because in the next moment, the grip on his hair tightens, and the tears in his eyes cause twin damp spots to bloom across the fabric of the blindfold. Kyungsoo sets a new pace this time – rough, shallow thrusts dragging the studs across the roof of his mouth until he tastes blood, weeping pathetically around Kyungsoo’s cock as the other teases his gag-reflex every few thrusts, making him cough and splutter with no form of relief as he doesn’t relent.

 

Jongin’s only just halfway adjusted – drool slipping out of his mouth as he tries to just relax his throat and _endure_ – when suddenly, Kyungsoo drags him forward and Jongin’s _choking, choking, choking_ , his nose pressing into the dark hair at the base of Kyungsoo’s cock

 

Kyungsoo holds him there for only a few seconds – not long enough for his head to start going fuzzy, but long enough for his throat to scream in raw protest. He pulls back and sputters when Kyungsoo lets go, coughing and spitting with no hands to cover his mouth and nose or wipe away the mess.

 

“See baby? Told you you’d manage.” Kyungsoo’s voice has darkened dramatically, and Jongin finds himself mentally cursing the blindfold – he wants to see how Kyungsoo’s eyes dilate, how his thighs tremble when Jongin pushes him too close to the edge.

 

But Jongin knows good boys put up with what daddy tells them to do, so he merely focusses on controlling his breathing, getting it back to normal so Kyungsoo can choke him with his cock again.

 

“Ready for round two?” Kyungsoo asks, and he thinks he hears the other man shuffling out of his jeans and toeing off his shoes before kicking them aside.

 

“Yeah,” Jongin nods, despite the rough throbbing in his throat that tastes tinny and painful. He opens his mouth wide, waiting for Kyungsoo to push back in.

 

“So obedient for me,” Kyungsoo comments, taking the time to wipe away some of the spit on Jongin’s lower lip before the tip of his cock brushes over the same spot and nudges in. “Such a good boy.”

 

The compliment has Jongin trembling right down to his thighs, ready to melt into a liquid mess on the floor as he again has his mouth stuffed full. Kyungsoo pushes further and further until he gags, and even then he only pauses to groan, savouring the feeling of Jongin’s throat spasming uselessly around him. He quickly shoves in the rest of the way, the stud on the end of his cock pressing roughly into the soft tissue of the back of Jongin’s throat.

 

Jongin would wail from the pain – if it weren’t for the obstruction in his mouth. So instead, the sound comes out as a gurgled complaint, sounding liquid and painful around Kyungsoo’s cock. Kyungsoo chuckles at that – sadistic delight at the way Jongin tries to move his head, neck writhing as he fights for air when Kyungsoo holds him even longer this time.

 

When Kyungsoo finally pulls him off, Jongin heaves, fighting for breath through his uncontrolled splutters so hard he nearly falls over. Kyungsoo rights him with a hand on his shoulder, muttering a low: “Just one more time, baby. You can do this.”

 

Jongin nods enthusiastically. He himself is now so hard that the light friction of his boxers every time he moves is downright torture, and he knows if he doesn’t do as Kyungsoo asks, his suffering will be prolonged. His lips feel numb when he opens his mouth again, and his nose is running freely now as his eyes continue to sting, but there’s nothing he can do about it with his hands still tied.

 

“You have no idea what you look like right now,” Kyungsoo groans, thrusting back in. This time he doesn’t waste time with going slow, merely pushing Jongin swiftly, steadily down the length of his cock with the hand fisted in his hair, and the other that comes up to brace against the back of his neck to stop his futile attempts to squirm away.

 

The pain is now so sharp – his throat so raw as he gags and gags, and continues to gag – that Jongin can’t really stop what would have sounded like a strangled scream, were his mouth free, but comes out pathetically muffled and gurgled.

 

“Shh, baby,” Kyungsoo coos, and Jongin can hear the strain in his voice as he grits his teeth. “You can take it.”

 

Jongin starts to weep when his air runs out – tears soaking through the blindfold and flowing down his face. He tries to gasp, chokes, pulls useless breaths in through his nose, right as Kyungsoo begins to grind into his mouth.

 

His toes and fingers begin to tingle, and if the blindfold weren’t in the way, his vision would be blurring and blacking. Body giving out, his shoulders slump as he sags, and the only thing that keeps him up are the hands holding his face into Kyungsoo’s crotch. His head pounds, swimming through the sensation of Kyungsoo fucking his throat raw – the taste of iron ringing through his mouth as it burns.

 

Right before Jongin _really_ thinks he’s going to lose consciousness, Kyungsoo lets go and pulls out. Jongin promptly falls over, side hitting the floor painfully with no hands to catch him.

 

Once he manages to clear past the initial stage of nearly hacking up a lung, he gulps in a breath of air so big it makes his ribcage ache. His shoulders twinge at the unnatural position too, his neck arched back and throat exposed. Some small part of him – the part that isn’t focussed on just _breathing_ and drooling all over the floorboards right now – is still focussed on Kyungsoo, and he hears shuffling, bare skin against the floor as he sits, warmth hovering next to him, near him.

 

“You did good baby,” Kyungsoo’s voice sounds close, and something soft dabs at his chin, under his nose, cleaning him up. “Good boy.”

 

Jongin whimpers, and whatever Kyungsoo was using to wipe his face disappears, only to be replaced moments later with a hand on his cheek, grazing his skin softly as he recovers. He tries to nuzzle into it, but his neck refuses to arch in favour of his aching throat, and Kyungsoo strokes down his neck, massaging the swollen, painful bulge of his adam’s apple.

 

“Can you stand?” Kyungsoo asks, and _no_ , Jongin doesn’t really think he can, but the hands bracing his shoulders to pull him up into a sitting position seem to say otherwise. “Be a good boy and let me help you up.”

 

It’s awkward, getting up with the use of his hands. Especially when his limbs are still a shaky mess, his fingers and toes only just getting their feeling back, but Kyungsoo loops an arm around his waist, hauling him up onto his legs, and steadying him when he sways dangerously.

 

“Now,” Kyungsoo’s voice drops and Jongin yelps when Kyungsoo suddenly digs the heel of his palm into his erection as he grips the top band of his boxer shorts. “Time to take these off.”

 

Jongin does as he’s told, letting Kyungsoo slide the garment down his legs, lifting each foot in turn for him to work them off and toss them aside. For a moment, there is only silence and his own laboured breathing, but he can _feel_ Kyungsoo’s eyes on him, roaming over his fully naked body for the first time in three whole weeks.

 

He finds this kind of intense observation _so_ fucking hot, and his cock twitches all by itself, the tip leaking pre-come. Kyungsoo must notice because he chuckles darkly and it happens again in reaction.

 

“Already so hard,” Kyungsoo purrs, gripping his arms and spinning him round, walking Jongin backwards until the backs of his thighs hit the bed, and he falls into the mattress, back arching unnaturally to accommodate for his tied hands.

 

Jongin whines and wriggles, the position too uncomfortable for him to spread his legs properly. His shoulders are starting to hurt just enough for him to edge on genuine worry, and he starts blubbering for Kyungsoo to untie him when he feels the other work his thighs apart manually.

 

“No,” is Kyungsoo’s answer, but he’s nice enough to lift Jongin up and slide a pillow under his back, his hands still being crushed painfully, but it’s not such an unnatural arch anymore. “I don’t want you to be able to touch yourself.”

 

Jongin sniffles when he hears a cap pop open and what he assumes is a bottle of lube being squeezed, thighs tensing in anticipation.

 

Kyungsoo crowds between his legs, forcing his thighs to part, and he can feel the other’s breath against him as he kneels. The next thing he feels is a cold fingertip circling his rim, and he squawks at the suddenness of it, loud in the otherwise silent room.

 

The first finger is easy – it’s not like Jongin hasn’t been fingering himself while Kyungsoo was away, and he sighs comfortably through the intrusion as Kyungsoo probes and stretches, testing the limits carefully after such a long time away.

 

It’s then that Kyungsoo seems to decide Jongin’s too calm, because he grips one thigh in place with the other hand, scraping bites and hickeys all up the inside of it as he pushes the second finger in. Jongin starts to keen softly, throat too tired and sore to make a louder noise, even if each press of Kyungsoo’s lips, each scrape of his teeth, has him squirming, on fire.

 

It’s only once he’s four fingers in and Jongin’s moaning loud enough for Kyungsoo to chuckle “ _I’m going to get another noise complaint if you keep that up, babe_ ”, that the other pulls his fingers out, smearing lube disgustingly across Jongin’s cheek as he – much to Jongin’s surprise – reaches up to undo the blindfold.

 

“I want you to look at me while I fuck you,” he murmurs into Jongin’s lips, making the younger shudder as he finally gets to drink in the sight of him. In the dim lighting of the bedroom, his skin glows with a light sheen of sweat, flushed and excited as he tries to simultaneously crawl forward to kiss Jongin properly and smear lube onto his own cock without looking.

 

It’s a little clumsy, and Jongin thinks most of it gets on his inner thighs instead, but he can’t really care when Kyungsoo’s pressing the tip against his entrance in a moment, stud catching and making him squeak, all muffled as they make out.

 

His first attempt at pushing in is too clumsy, only making him slide up and over Jongin’s balls, and the noise the younger makes when they break apart carries so much displeasure that Kyungsoo outright laughs, albeit a bit strangled and constricted with pleasure.

 

“Calm down babe, I’m gonna give it to you.”

 

Steadying himself properly, he thrusts in – that familiar zing of pain from Kyungsoo’s piercing making Jongin whimper weakly as he screws his eyes shut. Kyungsoo leans down to kiss him again as he bottoms out, and the shirt he’s unfortunately still wearing brushes and catches on Jongin’s new piercings, making him buck up and yowl.

 

He’s over-sensitized, and it’s painful, and Kyungsoo has to catch the last of the sound with a swirl of his tongue, calming him down into a series of soft whimpers instead.

 

“Shirt,” Jongin gasps, as the other pulls back to stand up. It’s been so long since he’s seen him, since he’s gotten to look at Kyungsoo’s body all exposed and gorgeous, and the way he can’t reach forward and pull the offending garment off by himself is driving him insane.

 

Kyungsoo seems to sense his desperation, because instead of resisting, he simply smirks, drawing the offending garment off over his head and tossing it aside as he waits for Jongin to adjust.

 

“Can I move?” he asks, after a moment, and Jongin just bite his lips and nods, too lost in the way Kyungsoo’s looking at him, equal parts aroused and fond. Kyungsoo slides a hand down Jongin’s thigh to his calf, pulling his leg up to rest in the crook of his shoulder as he starts off by rocking his hips against Jongin in a gentle rhythm, allowing him the time to adjust properly.

 

He knows it won’t last – that Kyungsoo’s just getting him used to it before he really sets the pace – but the gentle treatment has Jongin’s lip wobbling, his back arching. He wants so badly to touch, to grip Kyungsoo’s shoulders, to feel down his chest, but his hands are still knotted expertly behind his back, and it’s _frustrating_.

 

“Soo,” he breathes, and Kyungsoo kisses the calf pulled up to his shoulder to show he’s listening.

 

“Please untie me. Wanna – wanna touch you.”

 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo concedes after a moment’s deliberation, and he gently pushes Jongin’s leg from his shoulder, letting his thighs fall open easily. He leans down to slip his arms behind Jongin’s back and gather him up, kissing him deeply even as he works to undo the knot around Jongin’s wrists.

 

Jongin keens softly into the kiss even as he finally gets the chance to lift his bruised wrists and clutch onto Kyungsoo’s shoulders tightly. He rocks into the gentle thrusts, unable to keep his hands still as he runs them down his boyfriend’s chest, getting to touch and feel all he wants for the first time in what feels like forever.

 

“Harder,” Jongin breathes, biting his lip when they part. Kyungsoo groans in response, pushing him down and going right with him – chest to chest as Jongin’s back meets the pillow again. He’s quick to indulge Jongin, the pace picking up, fierce snaps of his hips growing faster and faster until Jongin can’t help but throw his head back, arching into Kyungsoo until his nipples drag against the other’s chest.

 

And because they’re still healing and sensitive, he jolts forward, body going concave as he tries to escape the feeling by burying his face in Kyungsoo’s neck with a sob. It’s just too much sensation for him to bear.

 

“Down baby,” the other instructs with a chuckle, pushing him down against the mattress with a hand on his chest as he pounds harder, becoming ruthless as Jongin writhes. “Are they sensitive?”

 

Jongin nods, blubbering as the bedframe begins to smack against the wall repeatedly. The tears in his eyes spill over again, and when Kyungsoo circles each nipple with a fingertip – not quite touching, but torturously close – Jongin wails in complaint, sniffling and sobbing and shaking as his entire body pulses with too much pleasure, too turned on to care about what a mess he must look like.

 

Kyungsoo growls in response to the sight before him, bracing hands on Jongin’s shoulders as he goes harder, deeper, changing his angle. Jongin, in turn, holds onto Kyungsoo’s forearms for dear life, the bed knocking against one of the side tables, making Jongin’s phone fall off and clatter to the floor.

 

Neither of them pay it any mind, because in the next moment, Kyungsoo shifts, changing his angle again, and Jongin howls when he hits his prostate dead on, arching up and spitting as he feels Kyungsoo’s piercing dig in as well.

 

“ _There_! Right there, _oh my god_ –” Jongin spews out sentence fragments, incoherent in his overwhelming need for Kyungsoo to just _do that again_.

 

Kyungsoo angles his hips like he did before, hitting Jongin’s prostate dead on as he begins to wail – high and scratchy from the pain still pulsing through his throat from the earlier treatment. Each thrust forces the breath out of him a little more, the sound coming jolted and stuttered as he drowns in pleasure, feeling it hotwire through each of his limbs in bursts.

 

Maybe it’s because they’ve been away from each other so long, but from the way Kyungsoo is grunting on each thrust, sweat dripping down from his temples to land on Jongin writhing beneath him, he can tell the other is already close, and it’s not like he’s far from the finish line either. He feels a clenching in his gut, coiling tight and ready to spring. All he needs is one little touch to explode.

 

“’Soo,” he pouts weakly, reaching up to cup the other’s face even as fresh tears cloud his eyes at the continuous dragging of studs inside him. “I want to come.”

 

“Alright baby,” Kyungsoo breathes, and he sounds as husky and worked up and turned on as Jongin feels, reaching down between them to take Jongin’s cock in one hand. His thrusts don’t slow, the slap of skin on skin loud even as he jerks Jongin off quickly, and Jongin’s entire body twitches, lurching forward as he orgasms. He clings to Kyungsoo’s shoulders, weeping pathetically into his neck as he feels rather than sees his come hitting his own chest in spurts.

 

Jongin stays like that, perfectly still as he holds onto Kyungsoo through his last few thrusts, hyper-sensitive to each tiny movement and the wet burst as Kyungsoo comes inside of him with a groan. He cants his hips a couple more times, before Jongin, over-stimulated, wriggles in complaint.

 

“Enough,” he whines, and Kyungsoo pulls out and presses him back down into the sheets by flopping on top of him, skin sticky as it cools in the night air.

 

Their breathing is loud as they catch their breath, and when Jongin has somewhat calmed down, he turns his head to the side to look at Kyungsoo, only to find the other already watching him.

 

“I’m glad you’re back,” he wheezes. It’s been too long since they’ve last done this, and Jongin feels downright _unfit_. “I missed you.”

 

“I know,” Kyungsoo chuckles, sounding equally out of breath as he shifts, sitting up now. “And I missed you too.”

 

Kyungsoo gets up, but Jongin’s eyes are already slipping closed, and he’s too tired to check where he’s going. He hears the sound of his feet against the floorboards as he pads into the adjoining bathroom, the click of the medicine cabinet opening, the squeak of the faucet turning on.

 

Jongin only opens his eyes to see what he’s doing when he feels the mattress dip, and Kyungsoo has a small tube of ointment in his hands that he proceeds to uncap, squeezing a small amount onto his finger.

 

“What’s –” Jongin starts, but he’s cut off when Kyungsoo brings the same finger up to one of his nipples, gently massaging the ointment into his piercing. A little groan gets caught off in his throat, because they’re still sensitive, but Jongin can tell the other’s being as light-handed as he can.

 

“We should have been more careful,” the corners of Kyungsoo’s mouth pull down slightly, and Jongin knows he’s worrying like he always does after rough sex. “They could have torn.”

 

“It’ll be fine Kyungsoo,” Jongin reassures, sighing in contentment at the extra attention and care as Kyungsoo shifts over to the other nipple.

 

“Maybe,” Kyungsoo sounds unconvinced. “But I was serious. These really weren’t a good idea, and to think you let Sehun –”

 

“Are you mad at me?” Jongin pouts, cutting him off. He doesn’t really want to have a fight and ruin such a perfect afterglow, but Kyungsoo does seem genuinely upset.

 

“No,” Kyungsoo sighs like he can’t quite resist giving in. “What’s done is done. I just wish you’d told me. I could have recommended you someone with proper experience.”

 

“I’m sorry,” the pout deepens, and he just wants Kyungsoo to forgive him now and cuddle, even if that’s a _little_ childish.

 

But in his defence, they’ve been apart for _so long._

 

“I know. It’s okay,” Kyungsoo sighs again, and Jongin’s eyes slip closed. “Just, next time, please tell me first.”

 

“I will.”

 

“Good,” Kyungsoo finishes up, re-capping the ointment and putting it on the nightstand before he lies back against the pillows next to Jongin. “Now let’s get some sleep.”

 

Jongin snuggles into his side, and Kyungsoo pulls a blanket over both of them. It’s a little hot and sticky with how they’re both still cooling down, but Jongin doesn’t really mind when his boyfriend presses a kiss to the top of his head and wraps him up in his arms.

 

He falls asleep to the sound of a heartbeat he’s been craving for the past three weeks, feeling pleasantly sore and genuinely content.

 

 

* * *

 

  

Jongin wakes to the ringing of his phone.

_Again_.

 

He reaches over to the side table blindly, and when he doesn’t find it, he has to lean out of bed and fumble around for it on the floor.

_It should be illegal for people to phone me in the morning,_ he thinks, mind still all bleary.

 

Sure enough, when he checks the caller ID, it’s Baekhyun. But in his defence, it isn’t exactly morning anymore. Apparently he slept in.

 

Oops.

 

“Hello?” He says, groggily, and next to him, Kyungsoo begins to stir into wakefulness.

 

“Hey Jongin, still asleep?” Baekhyun chuckles. “Last night must have been _wild_.”

 

“What do you want, hyung?” He asks, flatly. The dull ache in his body is only getting worse, pain sharper in certain places – his back, his wrists, his throat – as he slowly comes to.

 

All in all, he’s a _little_ grumpy right now.

 

He’s too focussed on the conversation, mind only able to register one thing just at the moment while Baekhyun teases him through the line, and he doesn’t notice Kyungsoo sit up and stretch, a slow smirk forming on his face as he watches Jongin.

 

Nor does he notice him slide under the covers, until a hand on his inner thigh makes him jolt and nearly kick Kyungsoo in the face.

 

A strong hand pins him back into place and he has to stuff a knuckle in his mouth to stop from whimpering into the receiver as his morning wood throbs in agreement with this new development.

 

“I was just wondering when I could come get your psych notes?”

 

“I don’t know Baek, I’m kinda busy –” he cuts off because suddenly, there’s a hand on his cock, dragging lazily up the shaft, and he has to stop himself from whimpering by biting his lip.

 

“Also you probably want notes from the classes you missed this morning, right? Between me and Jongdae I think we can cover you,” Baekhyun continues, oblivious to how Jongin reaches under the covers with the hand not holding the phone, tugging at Kyungsoo’s hair in a weak attempt to make him stop.

 

“Yeah, Baek, that would be –” he cuts off with a sharp gasp as suddenly Kyungsoo wraps his lips around the head of his cock and presses his piercing into the slit.

 

“Jongin?” Baekhyun’s voice comes back suspicious, and he prays to every god he’s ever heard of that he hasn’t caught on. “Please don’t tell me you and Kyungsoo are –”

 

Whatever Baekhyun was about to say gets lost in a loud moan as Kyungsoo sinks down all of a sudden and swallows around Jongin’s cock. He clenches onto Kyungsoo’s hair so tight that the other grunts in displeasure. Jongin’s thighs tremble, and there’s no way Baekhyun can’t tell now.

 

Baekhyun screams.

 

 


End file.
